


Queen of the Night : Years 4-5

by dragonchallenge



Series: Queen of the Night [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Love/Hate, Multi, Multiple Relationships, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2019-07-14 18:03:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 237,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16045727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonchallenge/pseuds/dragonchallenge
Summary: Tara Nox has had an interesting childhood. From going to a school that regularly threatens her life, battling Voldemort, a thousand-year-old basilisk, to an escaped prisoner, her life has been far from boring. But things have lately taken a darker turn. From a series of eerie presents from a mystery sender with ominous notes to dreams of a Muggle man being murdered, Tara knows that something big is coming. And when a competition between the three elite wizarding schools takes a strange turn, Tara finds herself, her best friends, and her boyfriend getting sucked into the middle of a dangerous scheme.





	1. The Scars

A flash of green light caused me to jump upright in my bed so quickly that my forehead smashed into my knee. I groaned pathetically as I plopped back against the sheet. Now not only was there a horrible searing pain in my wrist from Merlin knows what (a Quidditch practice gone wrong, I was sure), there was also sure to be a knot on my forehead from the impact. I rubbed my hand over my face a few times, feeling the sweat wipe off in droves, as I tried to calm myself down. Just a dream... it was only a dream. A very lifelike one, though.

Knowing that I should have laid down and tried to get back to sleep, I sat upright, rubbing at my wrist. It wasn't the first time that I had ever had that dream. At least, a dream that took place there. I had seen that place a number of times. Little Hangleton, as I recalled from earlier versions of it. This was just the latest in a string of them over the last few years. But this one was the most realistic and the one that I remembered the best. Plus I had never woken up in physical pain before. Not like this. Not the kind of pain that I had only felt twice before this in my life.

Trying desperately to ease the pain, I laid flat on my back, breathing hard as though I had been running. I had first awoken from a vivid dream with my hands pressed over my face. Now they were covering up my hand, rubbing at my wrist, trying to stop the pain that was slowly spreading. I was sure that the headache had nothing to do with my hand pain, but it wasn't helping. My wrist and entire hand was burning beneath my spare hand as though someone had just pressed a white-hot wire to my skin. Yes, I had felt this pain before.

Seldom, but I had felt it. My hand was aching much in the same way that it had been when I had been in the Forbidden Forest for a detention in my First Year and I had run straight into Professor Quirrell disguised as Voldemort - which he sort of was. It was that same miserable pain. That same desire coursed through me, wishing that I could tear my hand free from my body. Just as I had on that day. My heart was pounding as I tried not to puke, staring down at my hand. Nothing strange there. Just the average birthmark in the middle of the back of my hand. Nothing more.

Very slowly I sat up, one hand still on my hand, rubbing it gently, the other reaching out in the darkness for my lamp, which was on the bedside table. I flicked it on and instantly groaned. That definitely wasn't a good idea. Instead of leaving it on, I turned off the light and flicked on the reading lamp on the other side of my bed. The room slowly came into view a little bit clearer. It was lit by the soft yellow glow from my lamp and a faint, misty orange light that was filtering through the curtains from the street lamp outside the window.

I ran my fingers over the birthmark on the back of my hand again. It was still painful. Rolling my eyes at myself, trying to convince myself that I was being dramatic, I scrambled out of bed, crossed the room, opened my wardrobe, and peered into the mirror on the inside of the door. An athletic and slightly curvy girl of fourteen looked back at me, her bright blueish-brown eyes puzzled and slightly frantic under her untidy blonde hair. I examined the birthmark of my reflection more closely. It looked just as normal and harmless as ever, but it was still stinging.

Every part of myself looked completely normal - save that I was trying to get used to my slowly growing curves and the extra inch I had gained over the summer. Mom had told me that by my Fifth or Sixth Year I would likely stop growing. I couldn't wait, since I kept growing out of my clothes that I had now and those sweater vests and skirts that I would have to wear when I was back at Hogwarts would show a little more than I was comfortable with if my curves continued to grow. The athletic build was gifted by Dad. The curves were definitely Mom's fault.

Hopefully some other girls had gained them over the summer too. As I paced my room back and forth, I tried to think about something else. About the dream. I spent at least five minutes trying to recall what I had been dreaming about before the searing pain in my hand had awoken me. It had seemed so real... There had been two people that I knew and one that I didn't. The one that I didn't know seemed to be the only good one there. But the green light... Had he died? I concentrated hard, frowning, trying to remember what had happened.

The dim picture of a darkened room came to me after a few minutes. There had been a massive snake on a hearth rug. My absolute favorite animal, it so figured that a snake would be the central character in a lifelike nightmare. There had been a small man called Peter, nicknamed Wormtail. It was a name and nickname that I was all too familiar with. Not to mention that there had been a cold, high voice... the voice of Lord Voldemort. I'd hear it before. There was no mistaking it. I felt as though an ice cube had slipped down into my stomach at the very thought.

Could it have been real? Or was my brain just playing tricks on me because it knew what scared me the most? All I knew was that one of my worst fears was what could come from letting Peter Pettigrew go almost three months ago. Not that we had meant to let him go. He was supposed to have been given over to the Dementors. But Professor Lupin - our previous Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher - had transformed into a werewolf in front of us and the distraction had given Pettigrew a moment to transform into a rat and disappear.

Was there a chance that Pettigrew had gone and sought out Voldemort? I would have thought that he would have tried living like Sirius - in solitude far from here. But if he was scared of Voldemort, who would offer him protection, he might have. So did that mean that I had actually just seen Voldemort and Pettigrew in reality? I couldn't figure it out. It felt real and there was no mistaking the pain in my hand. But it could have just been a nightmare. The pain in my hand could have been a figment of my imagination. After all, it was already starting to fade.

But... There was always a but. My mind kept going back to the note that I had gotten from the mystery present sender in the beginning of the summer - the last time that I had heard from them. What about the note that had come with the present? See you soon. That was what it had said. What if it had been sent to me by Voldemort? It was a theory that I'd had before but never one that I had been able to substantiate. But what if he really was planning on seeing me again sometime soon? I knew that he wanted me. Like it always did when I started thinking too much, my head began to throb.

Now I knew how Harry felt when his scar started to hurt him. These were the worst type of headaches. Stress. My head snapped up after a few seconds as I realized something. There was one person that I knew I could talk to about my strange relationship with Voldemort. My best friend - Harry Potter. I glanced down at my Muggle alarm clock that sat on my dresser. It was just past three o'clock in the morning. I sighed. He wouldn't be awake unless he had been privy to the same nightmare, which had happened before.

Deciding not to risk waking him up, I closed my eyes tightly and tried to remember what Voldemort had looked like, but it was impossible... Definitely not the handsome boy that we had met down in the Chamber of Secrets two years ago. And not quite the lifeless creature in the back of Quirrell's head three years ago. All I knew was that at the moment when Voldemort's chair had swung around, and I had seen what was sitting in it, I had felt a spasm of horror, which had awoken me... or had that been the pain in my hand? Or the flash of green light?

All of a sudden I felt another headache coming on. I knew what that flash of green light meant. There were very few spells that emanated a green light. The Killing Curse being one of them. And who had the old man been? The one that had fallen victim to the curse. By Voldemort or Pettigrew, I wasn't sure. But I knew that there had definitely been an old man; I had watched him fall to the ground. Was he Frank Bryce? Had someone said that name? I didn't remember. But I knew that I remembered hearing it somewhere. It was all becoming confused.

It felt like trying to study Divination. I put my face into my hands, blocking out my bedroom, trying to hold on to the picture of that dimly lit room, but it was like trying to keep water in his cupped hands; the details were now trickling away as fast as I tried to hold on to them. I vaguely remembered that Voldemort and Wormtail had been talking about someone they had killed, though I could not remember the name... and they had been plotting to kill someone else... Harry! It suddenly dawned on me. And I remembered that they were talking about taking me.

Just as they had before. I knew that Voldemort wanted me. Pettigrew had almost handed me over to him when I was a baby - as he had been babysitting me on the night that Voldemort had murdered Harry's parents. Was there a chance that the nightmare had been real? Maybe it was... But who could I talk to about this? Who would know if it was true? That was when I remembered another detail. There had been a sign outside of the house. Little Hangleton, it had said. I was right about where the house was. But where was it? Who would know?

Certainly not me. Geography wasn't my thing. I was bad enough with it back in the States, here in England, I was next to useless. Perhaps my parents would know, but they would start asking why I wanted to know. Harry was just as bad with directions as I was. Harry! I had to tell him about the nightmare on the off chance that he hadn't shared it. He was involved, after all. And if it wasn't real... what harm would it do? Make him nervous and cautious for a few weeks? What else was new? Yes, telling Harry about it was definitely the best choice that I had right now.

Of course that started with getting up and heading over to his house, which wouldn't be a great idea, since it was barely three in the morning. At least if Mom and Dad saw me over there, they wouldn't care. They knew that the two of us were like siblings, so sleepovers and midnight rendezvous had never been anything strange. I took my face out of my hands, opened my eyes, and stared around my bedroom as though expecting to see something unusual there. As it happened, there were an extraordinary number of unusual things in my room.

A large wooden trunk stood open at the foot of my bed, revealing a cauldron, broomstick, black robes, and assorted spell books. Rolls of parchment littered that part of my desk that was not taken up by the large, empty cage in which my Great Horned Owl, Dai, usually perched. On the floor beside my bed a book lay open; I had been reading it before I fell asleep last night. The pictures in the book were all moving. Men in bright red and blue robes were zooming in and out of sight on broomsticks, throwing a red ball to one another.

Next to it was an open journal that I immediately snapped shut. I really had to be careful to make sure that my parents didn't see it. It was the journal that Cedric had given me for Christmas last year. Filled with options on what we wanted to do over the summer and my favorite memories of the two of us. Right now it was open to the time at the end of the semester that the two of us had fallen asleep up in the Astronomy Tower a few days before the end of the semester. My parents would have a cow if they read about that night.

Standing from the bed, I walked over to the book, picked it up, and watched one of the wizards - my own father - score a spectacular goal by putting the ball through a fifty-foot-high hoop. He had been the Head Chaser on the United States Stars for eight years before we had returned to England. Then I snapped the book shut. Even Quidditch - in my opinion, the best sport in the world - couldn't distract me at the moment. I placed Flying with the Stars on my bedside table, crossed to the window, and drew back the curtains to survey the street below.

As I should have been expecting, Privet Drive looked exactly as a respectable suburban street would be expected to look in the early hours of Saturday morning. All the curtains were closed. As far as I could see through the darkness, there wasn’t a living creature in sight, not even a cat. Just about fifteen feet away, Harry's lights seemed to be on. Was he awake? Was he awake because of the same reason? I glanced back down at the street. Nothing seemed wrong. There was just the simple orange glow of the streetlights. That was it.

And yet... and yet... There seemed to be something wrong here. It felt like I was missing something. It felt like there was something wrong. My eyes scanned the streets three more times, but I didn't see anything. Not that I really wanted to. Before I could convince myself to check a fourth time for something wrong with the streets, I glanced away and shut my curtains. Just in case. I didn't want to see something wrong. I went restlessly back to the bed and sat down on it, running a finger over my birthmark again.

It wasn't the pain that was bothering me; I was no stranger to pain and injury. I had lost all the bones from my right hand once and had them painfully regrown in a night. My right leg had been torn apart and almost off by a massive snake not long afterward. I had nearly bled out in my First Year. Only last year I had fallen fifty feet from an airborne broomstick and broken almost every bone in my body. I was used to bizarre accidents and injuries; they were unavoidable if you attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and had a knack for attracting a lot of trouble.

It was much thanks to Harry Potter being my best friend. There were a number of other issues and injuries that I had received in school, but it would take me a year to get through all of them. No, the thing that was bothering me was that the last time my birthmark had hurt me, it had been because Voldemort had been close by. He had been in the Forbidden Forest, mere feet from me. But Voldemort couldn't be here, now... The idea of Voldemort lurking in Privet Drive was absurd, impossible. He wasn't a fool and it would be foolish to be here right now.

Suddenly there was a snapping noise from the outside of my bedroom. I jumped practically out of my skin and nearly toppled off of the bed. Once I had managed to calm myself down, I very slowly began moving around. Was the snapping noise Voldemort Apparating into my house? Was he on his way to murder my parents the way that he had Harry's? And then take me to do who-knew-what? But I knew that it was stupid. Voldemort was still a shapeless lump, trying to force his way back to humanity. He was too weak. He wasn't here.

So why was my heart still pounding the way that it was? I needed to calm down. He wasn't here. Lord Voldemort was gone, at least for now. He wasn't coming back. I just had to keep telling myself that. Still fearing the worst, I very slowly forced myself out of the bed. It definitely wasn't someone Apparating here. I could hear more knocking against my windowsill. I walked over and drew the curtains, throwing my window open. To my immense relief, I saw that it was just Harry throwing rocks, as he usually did when he needed me to wake up.

"Harry..." I whispered, placing my hand over my rapidly beating heart. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry," Harry said guiltily. "Did I wake you up?"

"No," I said honestly.

"Bad dream?" Harry asked.

I perked up. Had he really had the same dream that I had? "Yeah. How'd you know?" I asked curiously.

"I had one too," Harry said.

"Hang on. I'm coming over."

"Okay."

There was only one way that we could handle this. The two of us needed to talk and we couldn't do it by shouting across the lawn where someone might have been able to hear us. I pulled my window up all of the way before ducking down underneath and swinging myself outside of my window, onto my trellis. I climbed down it slowly, jumping down the last few rungs, before crossing the yard to Harry's house. I grabbed onto the trellis outside of his bedroom and yanked myself up it. It definitely used to be easier when I was eleven.

It almost surprised me how hard it was now. Maybe it was because I hadn't practiced Quidditch in so long or maybe it was because I wasn't four feet tall anymore. Now I was pushing just over five feet. It took me almost two minutes before I managed to reach Harry's window. He reached out to my arm and grabbed me to let me practically throw myself into his bedroom. We just saw each other last night, but I still brought him in for a tight hug. Probably because the nightmare had definitely put me on edge.

Once we pulled apart, I glanced out towards his closed bedroom door. "Dursley's asleep?" I asked.

"Yeah. We should be fine as long as we're quiet," Harry said.

"Good." The two of us walked over to Harry's bed and we plopped down on it. "Tell me about your nightmare," I said.

"I only remember bits and pieces of it," Harry mumbled.

"Doesn't matter. Tell me about it," I goaded.

We really had to figure out what exactly that nightmare was about. Between the two of us, I knew that we were going to figure it out. We would be able to put the whole thing together. The two of us spent a long time chitchatting back and forth about our respective nightmares. It didn't take long for us to realize that we had actually had the exact same nightmare. There didn't seem to be a single difference between them. It wasn't the first time that it had happened so it wasn't very surprising that they were the same.

We were able to discern this much from the nightmare: It had taken place in a location called Little Hangleton. I remembered seeing that on a sign outside and also from old nightmares. Harry took my word on that. We knew that it had happened at a large and old fashioned house that seemed to have no permanent tenants. It was a lovely manor. There was a caretaker by the name of Frank Bryce; another thing that Harry had taken my word on. We quickly realized that he was just a normal Muggle man with nothing magical about him.

It seemed that what had happened was, upon hearing something strange, he had gone up to the house to investigate. Perhaps because he thought that there were some teenagers looting through the house. Once there, he had traipsed through the house to an upstairs bedroom. There were two voices speaking upstairs that Frank Bryce had listened in on, clearly not understanding what he was hearing. One had continuously used the term My Lord where the other had a high, cold voice.

There had been something about someone named Nagini. Neither one of us knew who or what that was supposed to be. I had never heard the name before. There was a slight mention of the Quidditch World Cup, which at least told us that this was happening sometime around right now, since the World Cup was only a few days away. They had also mentioned the Ministry of Magic, which made sense. The two of them had mentioned both Harry's and my own name. Apparently there was something to be done with Harry and they needed to finally find me.

Our thoughts were very fuzzy on what exactly it was that they had said. We only remembered bits and pieces of what had happened in the nightmare. We both remembered that Wormtail had insisted that we were well protected. And we were, being here with my parents, the Weasley's later, and then with Dumbledore at Hogwarts. They also had a theory that we were both rejoin them soon enough. I did remember hearing that the two of them had murdered a woman named Bertha Jorkins, whom I didn't know.

The Muggle man was clearly terrified of their words, seeing as they had just admitted to killing someone, and he had turned, planning on retreating to the village and telling anyone about what had just happened. Before he could move we had realized that Nagini was actually not a person. She was a monstrous snake that rivaled the Basilisk, warning her master that there was a Muggle man lurking in the hallway, listening in on their conversation. Then the door had fully opened, revealing that Wormtail was, indeed, Peter Pettigrew.

His rat like face had appeared in the doorway before Frank Bryce. He looked terrified to see the man. On the far side of the room the cold voice had warned Wormtail not to be rude and to invite their guest in. That was when the chair had turned and the owner of the cold voice had revealed themselves. It was definitely Voldemort, but neither one of us could remember what he had looked like. There was a flash of green light that I could just barely remember and then Frank Bryce had been no more.

That was the moment that both of us had awoken to the searing pains that we associated with Voldemort. Harry's had been in the scar on his forehead left by Voldemort thirteen years earlier. My own had been in the birthmark on my right hand, that same place that I had gotten the pain in while we had been in the Forbidden Forest three years ago. It didn't take either one of us that long to realize that it wasn't just a coincidence. There was something wrong with the nightmare and the pains that we had felt immediately afterwards.

"So the exact same dream with pains in the places that we know have something to do with Voldemort?" I finally asked.

Even saying it aloud sounded wrong. Harry nodded blankly. "That's what I was thinking. You're the only person that I could think to talk to about it," he said.

"Same. What do you think that it means?"

Harry was silent for a long time. "Could Voldemort be back?" he finally asked.

Now that would definitely be my worst nightmare. I thought about it for a moment before shaking my head. "Doubtful. The world would know. Voldemort's kind of got a big head. He would want to raise the banners in his name if he were back," I said somewhat honestly. We would know when he was back. Everyone would. "No... I think he's still a lifeless thing."

"So you think that we're overreacting?" Harry asked.

"No. I don't think that we both had the exact same nightmare for nothing, but I don't know how useful it would be to get worried about it either," I said half-truthfully.

It wasn't that I didn't think that there was a point getting worried. I had a good feeling that I actually did have a reason to be worried. The dream had just been too realistic and had seemed too pointed at us. But I didn't want to make a big deal out of it. We had been babysat by the teachers before and it was miserable. Plus I knew that if I said something about it, everyone would start making huge deals out of it. It wasn't that I didn't want to be worried about it, it was more that I didn't want everyone else making a huge deal out of it.

"Maybe we should tell someone," Harry said slowly.

"Who will we tell without freaking them out?" I asked him curiously. Everyone would panic if we told them that we had seen Voldemort. "We have no proof other than a vague memory of the nightmare."

Harry was silent for a few moments before saying, "You think that no one will believe us."

Would someone believe us? Not many. Maybe just a set few. "I think that no one ever believes us. Sometimes not even when we have proof," I said, remembering Professor McGonagall's words when we had told her about the Sorcerer's Stone being in danger in our First Year.

"The Dursley's would be pointless," Harry reasoned.

"Absolutely," I agreed.

"What about your parents?" Harry asked.

As far as adults went, they were the best. "They'd probably be our best bets. They have in’s with the Ministry and Dumbledore. But even they would get oddly weirded out if I told them about the nightmares. Neither one of us would never be allowed to leave the house," I said truthfully. "And you know the Ministry and Fudge. They're useless! They'd think that we were overreacting and send us to St. Mungo's."

"What?" Harry asked dumbly.

"The Wizarding World hospital," I explained.

"Yeah. You're right. They don't want to believe that Voldemort could come back," Harry muttered.

Why we even had the Ministry of Magic was beyond me. They never did anything useful. "To be fair, neither do I. If we tell them, they're just going to think that we need some help. They won't go investigate it themselves. Remember, these are the people who didn't even know that Voldemort's birth name was Tom Riddle. They're morons," I growled.

Harry nodded blankly. "Another good point. We're probably just having a strange nightmare," Harry said, not sounding convinced.

"And we are linked by Voldemort anyways," I said slowly, trying to convince myself.

"Exactly. We've had the same or similar dreams and nightmares before."

"So we agree not to get too panicked?"

"Agreed."

It was obvious enough that neither one of us really wanted to mention this to anyone. We both clearly knew that it was the right thing to do - the safe thing to do - but it would cause all sorts of nightmares. We would be sucked into the Ministry and all of their foolishness and I would have no chance at a normal Fourth Year. Neither one of us would. Nope. It was best to stay quiet until we had something that was actual proof. Right now we only had a vague memory of a dream. We could stay quiet for just a little while longer. One normal year. That was all that I wanted.

A normal year with my normal boyfriend and my normal friends with nothing trying to kill me. That sounded nice. "Although, if it happens again, I'd be more inclined to tell them," I finally conceded.

"Agreed," Harry said immediately.

I supposed that it was a good enough happy medium. The two of us laid down in bed together for a little while, doing nothing. It wasn't often that we got a chance to try and relax with nothing more to worry about than grades. So right now we were trying to forget about that dream. I had my head in my hands with my elbows against my knees while Harry laid down against my leg. The two of us hadn't gotten much of a chance to see each other in general since Harry's birthday a few days ago. I had been out and about lately - mostly with Cedric.

As we laid together my brain started to wander off into the far reaches of my recent memory. As much as I would have liked to think about my summer afternoons with the twin's joke shop, or running around with Harry, or stolen kisses with Cedric, I started thinking about the the mystery present sender. I had never told any of the others about the present that had appeared on my bed after I had gotten back home at the end of the semester. Everyone had been so happy to see Sirius and get to talk with him that I didn't want to interrupt the happy air.

After he had left, I had kind of forgotten about it. When Sirius was here we had all had a nice dinner together and talked mostly about ourselves to catch up. Clearly Harry had been thrilled to get even an hour more with Sirius. During the dinner I had even found out that Justin was a boy that Mom had dated in her Fourth Year that Dad had relentlessly teased and threatened. It had gotten so hard that Justin had finally broken up with Mom, who hadn't been happy about it. Naturally she had screamed at Dad and hadn't spoken to him for weeks afterwards.

The story had made me laugh and practically forget about the present. But it was back in the forefront of my mind now. "I have to tell you something," I told Harry, sitting up.

"Okay."

"I got another one of the boxes," I spat out.

Harry's eyes bugged out of his head as he sat bolt upright. "What?" Harry gasped. "But it's been so long!"

"Hush!" I hissed, hearing Dudley and Vermin give loud snorts. We definitely didn't need to wake them up. "I know... I know... I got it the day that we got back home. It had a little piece of steel in it with that same number engraved into it."

"Was there a note with it?" Harry asked.

One had never come without a note. "Yes," I said.

"What'd it say?"

"'See you soon.'"

Harry stared at me for a few moments. "See you soon?" he repeated. I nodded. "What does that mean?"

Suppressing the urge to roll my eyes at the stupid question, I shifted on his bed slightly. "I'd imagine that it means exactly what it sounds like. I'm going to meet the mystery present sender soon," I said, an eerie chill shooting up my spine. "I thought that maybe someone was just playing a prank on me or it was meant to unsettle me... but now..."

Thankfully Harry and I had always been able to pick up on each other's thoughts. "You're thinking that it might be Voldemort. If he really is back," he said.

"Yeah," I mumbled.

Was the whole thing really that much of a coincidence? Voldemort could have been getting others to do his bidding for him. Now, as soon as I got a present that indicated that I would meet the mystery sender soon, I also have a nightmare that showed Voldemort returning. It just seemed too well-timed to be anyone else. The thought unnerved me even more. How much longer would it be before I met him? Would he kill me immediately or would he try and use me for something? Would he meet Harry too? A dull throb began in my temple and worked its way to behind my eye.

"But don't you remember what he said?" Harry asked suddenly, sounding excited about something. I shook my head. "He told you that it wasn't him doing it in the Chamber of Secrets and down in the dungeons."

"You don't think that he can lie?" I shot back.

Harry shook his head. "It's just so strange. Why is it only happening to you?" he asked.

As good of a question as any. It was one that I had asked myself many times. Why was I the only person who got the mystery boxes and notes? No one else that I knew had gotten any. Not even Harry, which didn't make much sense. He was the Boy Who Lived. I was just some nobody with a strange connection to Voldemort. No one knew who I was and I was perfectly happy letting Harry have all of the crazy things to deal with. I didn't want to be in the center of this. But it didn't look like I was going to get what I wanted this time around.

"Trust me when I say that I ask myself that question all the time," I groaned.

Harry gave a slight smile and grabbed my hand. "You haven't told anyone else?" he asked.

He was the only person who knew that I had even received the boxes - save Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, our two other best friends. But even they didn't know about this one. "No. I've never gotten one like that before," I said truthfully.

"Have you heard anything else since?" Harry asked.

That was the thing about the boxes that made them so hard to predict. "Radio silence. I just don't get it, Harry. I can't trace these packages. They just kind of show up. They're random. No pattern to them," I said.

The packages never seemed to appear at any specific times. I had gotten one every Christmas since starting my First Year at Hogwarts and I had also gotten one on the first day of summer after each year had ended, but those were the only ones that regularly showed up. Otherwise they appeared at random and without warning. All I knew was that they didn't appear for no reason. Each one had included something to do with whatever was happening to us at the moment. That was why I had thought that they were a friend and not a foe for so long.

"They always seem to have some kind of help in them though. Remember First Year?" I asked Harry. He stared at me blankly for a moment. "All of the packages had some kind of red stone in them."

"The Sorcerer's Stone," Harry responded, finally understanding what I was getting at.

"Mm-hmm," I confirmed. "Second Year. They all had snake skin or something like that, with the exception of the doll that looked like Hagrid."

"Warning you about the Basilisk and that Hagrid wasn't the heir," Harry reasoned.

"Yes. Last year was the rat's tail."

"Scabbers. Pettigrew."

"Yes. This person has helped us every single year in their own way," I said. It had been my own theory that they weren't actually bad, considering that they had been trying to help us. So it couldn't have been Voldemort. Could it? "We've always just been too slow to pick up on it. Now there's a piece of metal."

"What could that mean?" Harry asked.

On the off chance that it was Voldemort, I didn't really know what metal would have to do with him. I didn't know what metal had to do with anyone, actually. I didn't know what the number eighty-three had to do with anything. Being born in nineteen eighty-three maybe, but we had already come to the conclusion that we didn't know of anyone born that year worth any significance. I had always liked mystery novels growing up, but right now I really wasn't enjoying being in one myself. Even Hermione didn't have an answer, and that was when we knew that things were screwed up.

"I don't know," I finally admitted to Harry. "That doesn't make sense. The number doesn't make sense. The note... I guess that makes sense, but I don't want to meet this person. I don't have the slightest clue who it could be other than Voldemort and that just doesn't seem right."

There was no reasonable way that it could be Voldemort. I just didn't believe it. They knew that I was sharing the notes with Harry and Voldemort wanted Harry dead. It wasn't my own parents or anyone else's. That would have been way too creepy. It was no one at Hogwarts; that much I was confident in. Dumbledore, the man in my dreams, Professor Lupin, and Sirius were all out of the running. Pettigrew was too much of a coward to do it. Voldemort himself had told me that it wasn't him. So who did that leave? One of Voldemort's Death Eaters? I wasn't sure.

After a few minutes, Harry started laughing. I turned to him in surprise. "We seem to set a new record every year with how early we can cause a problem," he said.

We both smiled. "Aunt Marge came earlier last year," I pointed out. "How is the dear relative?"

"Never allowed to be in the same room as either one of us ever again."

"Good." Marge Dursley could stay on the other side of the planet from me for all I cared. Especially since she always had something rude to say about me. "Let's talk about something else. This creeps me out," I said quickly.

"How's Diggory?" Harry asked quickly.

"Really?" I snapped, narrowing my eyes at him.

Twenty years could pass and no one would ever like the fact that Cedric and I were together. "I'm just asking," Harry said, putting his hands up.

"He's good. Almost got caught last week," I mumbled.

There had been a number of near-misses between the two of us over the past few weeks. The first one had come just days after we had gotten back home. The two of us were in my kitchen when I had sat up on the counter. Cedric had been standing in between my legs and had leaned up for a kiss when Mom had walked in. I'd kicked him away from me so hard that I'd left a bruise on his ribs for days. Needless to say that I'd felt terrible about it. But that was only the first in a long line of near-disastrous misses that usually led to one or both of us getting hurt.

Harry seemed to find that part humorous, as he was normally the one that I told about the never-ending near-misses. "So I heard," Harry snorted, having been told about my latest disaster just the other day.

"I wish I could just spit it out but I know that they'll lose it," I groaned, dropping my head onto Harry's shoulder.

"You're gonna have to tell them at some point. Either you tell them or the relationship with Diggory will end," Harry pointed out.

He was right about one thing. I would have to own up and tell them at some point or wait until the relationship simmered out, which I was hoping wouldn't happen. Those were the only two options. At some point I would have to tell them. Although it was starting to sound like a better idea to wait even longer. Especially after Dad had just mentioned the other day that he really didn't start seriously dating until his Fifth Year. They would love me telling them that I was in a relationship with someone two years older than me for over six months...

"As much as I'd like it to, I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon," Harry continued, referring to the potential end of my relationship with Cedric.

I smiled at his wording. I knew that everyone wanted our relationship to end. The other girls in Hogwarts all had massive crushes on him. So had I - right up until the moment that we had started dating. Cedric's friends insisted that I was too young and brought danger and drama wherever I went. My friends agreed that I was too young and that he wasn't good enough - which was a complete lie. My parents thought that I was still too young to date. No, people were happy that I was happy, but no one really wanted us to be together.

"You're right. Better just telling them than getting caught," I finally said.

Which was destined to happen if the two of us kept going the way that we were. "That'll be worse. At least if you tell them they might have some respect that you finally spit it out," Harry said.

"Yeah," I mumbled.

Would that actually make things better? I wasn't sure. The only way to tell would be by telling them and hoping that they didn't lose it. For a while I listened closely to the silence around us. Only the gentle thrum of the air conditioning could be heard. Was I half-expecting to hear the creak of a stair or the swish of a cloak? On my side, I could tell that Harry was also listening for anything strange. And then we both jumped slightly as we heard Harry's cousin Dudley give a tremendous grunting snore from the next room over.

His snores were the only reason that the rest of the Dursley household didn't hear me whenever I made a midnight visit. "How do you sleep through that?" I whispered to Harry.

"Note that we're both awake right now," he replied.

That was a fair enough argument. I felt quite badly for him. Was Harry ever able to get a full night's sleep with Dudley making that noise? Or with the fear that something might have been coming for us. I shook myself mentally; I was being stupid. There was no one in the house with the two of us except Vermin, Horse-Face, and Dudley, and they were plainly still asleep, their dreams untroubled and painless. In my own house was only Mom and Dad, both fast asleep as normal. There was no one that shouldn't be in our houses. I was confident of that.

"In the meantime, how was your night?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the eerie thoughts.

Harry scoffed. "You know, the Dursley's are wonderful as always."

"At least they're letting you wander around a lot more."

They used to rule Harry with an iron grip, but they had let up on him a lot this summer. "Mostly because they think that I'll write to Sirius and tell him that the Dursley's are treating me terribly. They're scared stiff that he'll come here and kill them himself," Harry explained.

"Good," I said, laughing.

Asleep was the way that Harry and I - and pretty much everyone else - liked the Dursley's best; it wasn’t as though they were ever any help to either one of us awake. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were Harry’s only living relatives. At least, by blood. They were Muggles who hated and despised magic in any form, which meant that Harry was about as welcome in their house as dry rot. They had always hated me - at least, they had since finding out four years ago that I was a part of the Wizarding World. The only reason that they knew about magic was because Horse-Face's sister, Lily Potter, was a witch.

A Muggle-Born, of course. She had been the only magical person in her family and Horse-Face had hated her for her abnormality since. They had tried to stamp out Harry's magic - which would have just created an Obscurus, which was even worse than a normal witch or wizard - but that idea had ended when Hagrid and I had come to tell Harry all about his lineage. For a long time I had asked my parents why we hadn't taken in Harry, but it seemed that most of the Wizarding World agreed that he was best off in the care of his Muggle relatives - which was a complete lie.

The Dursley's had explained away Harry's long absences at Hogwarts over the last three years by telling everyone that he went to St. Brutus’s Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. On the Dursley's request - and partially because we did happen to live in a Muggle community - my parents explained my absences by saying that I was going to an elite finishing school. It had definitely given me a good laugh when they had told me that after my First Year was over. I had a good feeling that the Dursley's tried insisting that I went to the sister school of Harry's supposed school.

The Dursley's knew perfectly well that, as an underage wizard, Harry wasn't allowed to use magic outside Hogwarts, but they were still apt to blame him for anything that went wrong about the house. Either that, or they came storming over to my house, demanding to know what my parents - perfectly well-qualified magical people - had done. Harry had never been able to confide in them or tell them anything about his life in the Wizarding World. The very idea of going to them when they awoke, and telling them about his scar hurting him, and about his worries about Voldemort, was laughable.

We were much better off telling my own parents about what had happened. But where the Dursley's would shout at him for using the M word, my own parents would have a conniption and head straight for Dumbledore. It seemed odd, and yet it was because of Voldemort that Harry had come to live with the Dursley's in the first place and I had been forced to move to America. If it hadn't been for Voldemort, Harry would not have had the lightning scar on his forehead. If it hadn't been for Voldemort, Harry would still have had parents and I would have never been taken from England.

Harry had been a year old and I had been two the night that Voldemort - the most powerful Dark wizard for a century, a wizard who had been gaining power steadily for eleven years - arrived at his house and killed his father and mother. That same night Peter Pettigrew had been babysitting me, with the intention to hand me over to Voldemort for a still undisclosed reason. Voldemort had gone to Harry's home first and murdered his parents and had then planned to come into my own to murder mine and take me with the help of Pettigrew.

His timing was the only reason that I had parents had Harry's didn't. After Harry's parents were dead, Voldemort had then turned his wand on Harry; he had performed the curse that had disposed of many full-grown witches and wizards in his steady rise to power - and, incredibly, it had not worked. The only person to have ever survived the Killing Curse was my best friend, still nothing more than an infant. Instead of killing the small boy, the curse had rebounded upon Voldemort, much to the surprise of every single person in our world.

The only thing that I remembered from that night was the flash of green light that had lit up my own bedroom. Harry had survived with nothing but a lightning-shaped cut on his forehead, and Voldemort had been reduced to something barely alive. His powers gone, his life almost extinguished, Voldemort had fled; the terror in which the secret community of witches and wizards had lived for so long had lifted, Voldemort’s followers had disbanded, and Harry Potter had become famous in our world.

It had been enough of a shock for Harry to discover, on his eleventh birthday, that he was a wizard; it had been even more disconcerting to find out that everyone in the hidden Wizarding World knew his name. Thankfully he had had me to help explain what was going on. Harry and I had arrived at Hogwarts to find that heads turned and whispers followed him wherever he went. It wasn't long before they began to follow me, too. Being the best friend of Harry Potter was one thing, but I had made a pretty good name for myself too. 

From hitting a teacher to consistently hitting one of my least favorite people on the planet (Slytherin student Draco Malfoy) I was always known for making trouble. Plus my boyfriend was one of the most popular people in the school. It had been surprising during my First Year. But we were all used to it now: At the end of this summer, the two of us would be starting our Fourth Year at Hogwarts, and we were both already counting the days until we would be back at the castle again.

Mostly Harry wanted to leave so that he wouldn't have to face the Dursley's again for ten months. I wanted to go so that I could kiss my boyfriend without having to worry about my parents walking in and potentially hurting ourselves by trying to stay hidden. Plus I really did miss the rest of my friends. Magical schools were nothing like Muggle schools, where kids dreaded returning to school. Magical kids could never wait to head back to their respective schools. But there was still a fortnight to go before we went back to school.

"We'll be back at Hogwarts soon enough, Harry," I said, knowing that he was thinking about how long he still had to go before returning to Hogwarts. "Just two more weeks. Before that we'll all get to go to the Quidditch World Cup."

"Who's playing?" Harry asked curiously.

"Bulgaria and Ireland."

"Who are you rooting for?"

"Ireland. They play a lot dirtier than Bulgaria, which makes them so much fun to watch. Ron will be rooting for Bulgaria," I said, snorting at Ron's man-crush on Victor Krum. "Fred and George are rooting for Ireland with me."

Harry grinned excitedly. "I can't wait. Are you staying here or coming to the Weasley's with me?"

"Weasley's. Mom and Dad are working hard to prepare for the World Cup right now. Notice how they're barely around." Considering that Dad worked as one of the heads of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, he was one of the main organizers of the Quidditch World Cup. "They'll meet up with us the morning before we head out and they'll join us," I explained.

"Diggory going?" Harry asked.

"Yes," I snapped. "He and his father are going."

"That ought to be fun, balancing everyone," Harry snorted.

My gaze narrowed at him. "You're such an ass," I growled.

Harry laughed softly, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Just kidding."

Although he really shouldn't have been kidding. It would likely be a lot of work, having to balance everyone. "What about you? Find anyone that suits your fancy?" I asked teasingly. Harry rolled his eyes. "That's not Cho Chang."

"Oh, Tara," Harry sighed.

Harry rolled his eyes, but I meant it. There was no way that I was ever going to throw my support for Cho Chang. She was certainly one of the worst people that I had ever met and was probably one of my least favorite people in the world. Cho Chang was a Fifth Year Ravenclaw who was the Seeker of their Quidditch team. We had met in Diagon Alley a few weeks before the start of our First Year where I had accidentally dropped ice cream on her shoes. She had hated me since. She hated me even more considering that she had a crush on Cedric Diggory - my boyfriend, who I hung over her head.

It was a little (very) childish, but that just showed how much I hated her. Harry was blushing a light red as he shook his head. "No. No one in particular."

"We've really got to get you a girlfriend," I teased.

"Why?" Harry asked.

Partially so that he would leave me alone about Cedric and have someone else to focus on. "Because people keep thinking that the two of us are dating and that's repulsive. No offense," I said quickly.

Harry scoffed. "Somehow I'm still slightly offended by that."

"We've been best friends since we were babies."

"And that's the way that it's going to stay."

"Exactly," I agreed.

The two of us would always be best friends and nothing more. The mere thought of looking at Harry like I looked at Cedric sent a shiver of disgust through me. As we sat in silence, I looked hopelessly around his room again. Some part of me was still thinking about the dream and the pain in my hand that had since faded to a dull throb. My eye paused on the birthday cards the other two of our best friends had sent him at the end of July. What would they say if Harry and I wrote to them and told them about his scar and my hand hurting?

Our two best friends knew about Harry's scar hurting each time that Voldemort was near. They also knew that my wrist had been only hurt when Voldemort had been near in the Forbidden Forest. The thought of both of our Voldemort-related pains killing us just after a dream about Voldemort would likely set the two of them over the edge. At once, Hermione Granger's voice seemed to fill my head, as she was always the first person with advice or reason, shrill and panicky.

"Your scar hurt? Harry, that's really serious... Tara! Last time that your hand hurt was when You-Know-Who was mere feet away! Write to Professor Dumbledore! And I'll go and check Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions... Maybe there's something in there about curse scars..."

"Hermione won't be of any help. She's the one who will make the biggest deal out of it. She reads too much," I mumbled, knowing that Harry was thinking the same thing.

"That's true. But she might know something," Harry said.

As smart as Hermione was - and she definitely had the best overall grades of anyone in our year - she wouldn't know the answer to this one. "Doubtful. Harry, the connection that we have with Voldemort is unheard of. All that anyone would be able to do is theorize. This isn't something that she'll find in a book," I reasoned.

"Who would know?" Harry asked.

"Dumbledore, maybe," I said. If there was anyone who knew about something that no one else would, it would be Dumbledore. "He seems to know the most about Voldemort."

Yes, that would be Hermione's advice: Go straight to the headmaster of Hogwarts, and in the meantime, consult a book. One of Hermione's favorite places in the world was the library. Muggle or magical, they were her favorite places. Usually it was easy for her to figure things out. But this wasn't something that was going to have a normal answer. We were going to have to go somewhere else for this answer. Harry and I stared out of the window at the inky blue-black sky. I doubted very much whether a book could help us now.

There was a good reason for that. As far as I knew, Harry was the only living person to have survived a curse like Voldemort's; in fact, I was certain that he was the only person to have survived the Killing Curse ever. It was highly unlikely, therefore, that he would find his symptoms listed in Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. Plus there was the issue that no one really knew what my connection to Voldemort was. That meant that searching for whatever ailed me was going to be completely useless.

As for informing the headmaster, I had no idea where Dumbledore went during the summer holidays. I amused myself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore, with his long silver beard, full-length wizard's robes, and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion onto his long crooked nose. Or maybe he was just traveling around. Wherever Dumbledore was, though, I was sure that Dai would be able to find him; my owl had never yet failed to deliver a letter to anyone, even without an address. But what would we write?

Dear Professor Dumbledore, Sorry to bother you, but my wrist hurt this morning. Yours sincerely, Tara Nox.

Even inside my head the words sounded stupid. Of course I would write more, but the question was whether or not any words that I could write would actually make any sense. Would Dumbledore think that we were overreacting? Probably not. Dumbledore always took every single person's concerns or worries completely seriously. He would take ours seriously. But that didn't stop me from wondering if we really were making a mountain out of a molehill. And would I even be allowed to go to the Quidditch World Cup if my parents were worried about Voldemort stealing me away?

Clearly Harry was thinking the same thing. "Dumbledore would never call us stupid for being panicked about something. But even he wouldn't have some totally rational explanation," I said. Dumbledore was often theoretical about things. "And we both know that he wouldn't want us to get involved with it. He'd do everything away from us."

"Because we're still too young," Harry said, filling in the blanks.

"Pretty much," I said carelessly.

That was the way that Dumbledore had been since out First Year. After we had woken up from our debacle down in the dungeons at the end of our First Year, we had both had a number of questions for Dumbledore about Voldemort and his words to us. We had also asked him the same things after we had met the mirage of Voldemort in our Second Year down in the Chamber of Secrets. We always got the same responses; that we were either too young or he didn't know the answer. I had a feeling that he was just trying to protect us.

We were both since used to it. I figured that one day we would get our answers, we were just going to have to wait patiently for them. That was the only reason that I didn't press for them. And so, knowing that Hermione would only make me even more paranoid about the nightmare, I tried to imagine our other best friend, Ron Weasley's, reaction, and in a moment, Ron's red hair and long-nosed, freckled face seemed to swim before me, wearing a bemused expression. In an instant I knew that Ron would be just as clueless as always.

"Your scar hurt? But... but You-Know-Who can't be near you now, can he? I mean... you'd know, wouldn't you? Or, at least, you would know, Tara. Don't you two have some weird connection? He'd be trying to do you in again, wouldn't he? Take you to his evil lair or something. I dunno, Harry, Tara, maybe curse scars always twinge a bit... I'll ask Dad..."

As much as I did love Ron, he had always been the slightest bit clueless. Which seemed odd, considering that he was from a Pureblood family - just like mine. But his even lived in the middle of nowhere so that they could freely use magic. Not even my own family was like that. Since we lived in a Muggle community, we had to hide who we were. Ron might have been a slightly better person to go to than Hermione, but a lot more people would end up knowing, since the Weasley's were a family of nine. Seven kids and their parents.

Mr. Weasley was a fully qualified wizard who worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, but he didn't have any particular expertise in the matter of curses, as far as I knew. He held a strange fascination with rubber ducks, which I was sure wouldn't help us at this moment. In any case, I didn't like the idea of the whole Weasley family knowing that the two of us were getting jumpy about a few moments' pain. Mrs. Weasley would fuss worse than Hermione. She was much like a second mother to me, much like my own was to Harry.

I'd never met Charlie or Bill (Ron's eldest brothers) but I knew that neither one of them worked with curses like the one that we were dealing with. Charlie was a dragon breeder and Bill was a Curse-Breaker for Gringotts (the Wizarding World bank). That wasn't the same thing as our curses. Percy would likely prattle my ear off about all of his many theories of what could be causing the pain and he would likely try and bring it to the Ministry whilst crediting himself. Percy had just graduated Hogwarts and was incredibly pompous about his wonderful grades.

Fred and George, Ron’s sixteen-year-old twin brothers, might think that Harry and I were losing our nerve. They would likely never let me forget about my moment of weakness. I loved the twins, but they could be real jerks. Either way, the Weasley's were my favorite family in the world. They were wonderfully disastrous. I was hoping that I would soon get the invite for me to stay with them. Harry was too. I had to keep reminding him that the Quidditch World Cup was still a few days away. As strange as it seemed, I somehow didn't want my visit punctuated with anxious inquiries about Harry's scar and my birthmark.

Perhaps it was a little selfish of me, but I really wanted to enjoy being with the Weasley's. I loved them all - even Percy, although my love for him was a little less strong than the others. I wanted to tease Ron and help Fred and George on their joke shop without worry. Their mother would never approve, so I was helping them to make it a legitimate business once they graduated in two years. I even missed gossiping with the youngest of the Weasley's - Ginny, the only girl in their family. The two of us and Hermione used to love chatting about Cedric.

And speaking of Cedric, I tried to imagine what he might have said if I took the chance to tell him about the dream. He seemed to frequently be concerned that I was getting in over my head, which was very true. That just proved that he did know me well. I had a bad habit of getting involved with things that I probably shouldn't have gotten involved with. Honestly I was just lucky that I was still alive. But what would he think if I told him about the dream and how my hand had hurt the same way that it had in the Forbidden Forest and down in the dungeons?

"Tara... You can't keep doing this all on your own. This is too much for the two of you to handle. You're just teenagers. You need to tell someone else about this. Dumbledore would help. He'll know what to do. You're going to give me a heart attack, you know."

His handsomely worried face sprang right to mind. It was the same look that he gave me each time that he thought that I was getting in over my head, and that was frequently. Yes, I knew that it was exactly what Cedric would have said. It was the same thing that he had said to me all three years that I had already been in Hogwarts and had decided to do something that would probably get me killed. He would insist that I couldn't handle this by myself and beg me to go to Dumbledore, followed by some quip about how I was making him lose his hair.

No one seemed to be a good person to go to for this. I kneaded my forehead with my knuckles and dropped my forehead down into my hands. I could already feel a stress headache coming on. What I really wanted (and it felt almost shameful to admit it to myself) was someone like a... trustworthy criminal? An adult wizard whose advice I could ask without feeling stupid, someone who cared about me, and someone who had had experience with Dark Magic. The problem with Mom and Dad was that they didn't. Mom was a Healer. Dad was a professional Quidditch player.

They might have both fought in the first Wizarding War but I was confident that they couldn't help us here anymore than just going to Dumbledore and demand that he tell them what he knew - which I knew that he wouldn't. I wished that I knew a criminal that I could rely on. Maybe an old Death Eater that had come back over to our side. The only one of those that I knew of was Professor Snape and I had a feeling that he would sooner poison himself than help either one of us. He would probably find it funny if Voldemort came after us.

"Sirius!" Harry gasped suddenly. 

I bolted up off of the bed and whipped around. "Is he here?" I asked breathlessly.

Did he know that we were here and in distress? Was he trying to help us? "What?" Harry asked me, looking baffled. "No. We should talk to him about it!"

If Harry had ever had a good idea, this was probably it. "Well... Sirius does know about the Dark Arts, having grown up in the Black house and having been in Azkaban as long as he was," I pointed out. He definitely had some knowledge of it, secondhand or not. "But he might write to my parents about it if he's concerned."

"So then we'll explain it to them," Harry said pointedly. "If nothing else, Sirius might have an actual explanation."

He might not have ever been on Voldemort's side, but Sirius had spent twelve years in Azkaban along with some of Voldemort's most trusted confidantes. Maybe he had heard something over the years. But I was concerned that he would mention it to my parents and I didn't want them panicking and potentially moving us back to the States again. I knew that Harry was concerned, but we had already agreed that we weren't going to tell anyone. Although that was kind of a selfish thought. He had a right to know.

"You really think that this is a good idea?" I asked slowly. I also didn't want to get Sirius worked up about it. "I thought we had promised not to tell anyone."

"It's one person and an adult's opinion. Something we can really use. I'll make it sound as normal as I possibly can," Harry promised.

"Okay," I conceded.

In the end, Harry was right. We couldn't hide this from everyone. Sirius was at least a good happy-medium when it came to who to tell. Harry leapt up from the bed, hurried across the room, and sat down at his desk; he pulled a piece of parchment toward him and loaded his eagle-feather quill with ink. I hopped up from the bed and plopped myself on the edge of Harry's desk, folding my legs up underneath me and hovering over Harry's shoulder so that I could read what he was writing. Harry took a moment, wrote Dear Sirius, and then paused.

For a moment I sat and waited for him to keep writing. But clearly he was stuck. I grabbed a spare quill and tapped it against my chin. We had to explain what had happened without potentially panicking Sirius. The last thing that I wanted to do was accidentally lure him out of hiding. So I sat, wondering how best to phrase our problem, while also marveling at the fact that I hadn't thought of Sirius straight away. But then, perhaps it wasn't so surprising - after all, we had only found out that Sirius was our godfather two months ago.

There was a simple reason for Sirius's complete absence from Harry and I's life until then - Sirius had been in Azkaban, the terrifying wizard jail guarded by creatures called Dementor's, sightless, soul-sucking fiends who had come to search for Sirius at Hogwarts when he had escaped. Because Sirius was an Animagus - a wizard who could transform into an animal - he was able to shift into his giant dog form and use his less human-like thoughts to slip between the bars and break out without being caught by the Dementor's.

Everyone had believed that Sirius was coming to kill the two of us to finish what he had supposedly started twelve years prior. Yet Sirius had been innocent - the murders for which he had been convicted had been committed by Wormtail, Voldemort’s supporter, whom nearly everybody now believed dead. The very man that I had seen in the dream. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I knew otherwise, however; we had come face-to-face with Wormtail only the previous year, though only Professor Dumbledore had believed our story.

For one glorious hour, Harry had believed that he was leaving the Dursley's at last, because Sirius had offered him a home once his name had been cleared. I had believed that I would get a chance to have a godfather; a new family member to rely on without the constant badgering like Mom and Dad did. But the chance had been snatched away from the two of us - Wormtail had escaped before we could take him to the Ministry of Magic, and Sirius had had to flee for his life. We had helped him escape on the back of a Hippogriff called Buckbeak, and since then, Sirius had been on the run.

Buckbeak had also been condemned to death. With the use of a Time-Turner - highly illegal - we had gone back in time to save them and allow them their escape. Sirius had only dropped by the house once, on the first day of summer, to check on us and say goodbye properly, before heading deep into hiding. The home Harry might have had if Wormtail had not escaped had been haunting him all summer. It had been doubly hard to return to the Dursley's knowing that he had so nearly escaped them forever. My family was still around, but nothing could have beaten living with Sirius.

Nevertheless, Sirius had been of some help to Harry, even if he couldn't be with him. It was due to Sirius that Harry now had all his school things in his bedroom with him. The Dursley's had never allowed this before; their general wish of keeping Harry as miserable as possible, coupled with their fear of his powers, had led them to lock his school trunk in the cupboard under the stairs every summer prior to this. But their attitude had changed since they had found out that Harry had a dangerous murderer for a godfather - for Harry and I (and my parents) had conveniently forgotten to tell them that Sirius was innocent.

Harry and I had each received two letters from Sirius since we had been back at Privet Drive. Mom and Dad had apparently received a couple as well. The first had been mostly to tell us that he had settled into hiding and was working on getting healthy again. The second was mostly just to check up on us and ask how our summers had been going (Harry with the Dursley's and me on my quest to tell my parents about my relationship). All of our letters had been delivered, not by owls (as was usual with wizards), but by large, brightly colored tropical birds. I had loved them and really hadn't wanted to send them back.

Hedwig and Dai had not approved of these flashy intruders; the both of them had been most reluctant to allow them to drink from their water trays before flying off again. I was positive that Dai was going to try and eat the macaw that came just a few weeks ago. Just like me, Harry, on the other hand, had liked them; they put the both of us in mind of palm trees and white sand, and we hoped that, wherever Sirius was (Sirius never said, in case the letters were intercepted), he was enjoying himself. He had been pale as a ghost when we had met after not seeing the sun for so many years.

Wherever he was, he deserved to be someplace with nice beaches and a relaxing ocean. Somehow, Harry and I both found it hard to imagine Dementors surviving for long in bright sunlight; perhaps that was why Sirius had gone south. He could run from people; Dementors, not so much. Sirius’s letters, which were now hidden beneath the highly useful loose floorboard under Harry's bed while mine sat in my dresser, sounded cheerful, and in both of them he had reminded us to call on him if ever we needed to. Well, we needed to now, all right.

"When's the last time you heard from him?" I asked Harry. "With the toucan?"

The toucan had definitely upset Dai. "The what?" Harry asked.

"The toucan, Harry," I sighed, exasperated. "It's the bird with the large curved beak."

"Oh," Harry muttered.

"Honestly, you need to pay more attention in Care of Magical Creatures. Or maybe go back to Muggle school for a little while," I teased.

"Shut up," Harry snapped, shoving me to the side. "Yeah, that's the last time that I heard from him. What about you?"

"I got a letter about three weeks ago," I said.

Much like Harry, I wished that I had received more than the mere two letters that I had gotten from Sirius this summer. It was definitely not my preferred method of communication and I would have much rather him stayed here. But I knew that he was safer far from here and on the run. Like my parents had been expecting, the Ministry had stopped by the day after Sirius's escape to check if he was at our house. Thankfully they had found nothing and hadn't returned since. Sirius had left our house within hours and had asked many of the questions over his letters that he hadn't gotten the chance to ask at dinner.

After all, with five of us to chat with and only an hour to do so, he hadn't gotten to say much. I had replied to both of his letters very quickly, but Sirius had warned me before he had left our house that he would likely take a while to respond. He was right to do so. He didn't want to tip off anyone in the neighborhood - Muggle or magical - that something might have been off with the constant birds flying back and forth, especially since they were so easy to spot in the air. The Ministry could get wind of it and know where to start looking for Sirius again.

Harry's lamp seemed to grow dimmer as the cold gray light that preceded the sunrise slowly crept into the room. It was now pushing four o'clock in the morning. Finally, when the sun had risen, when his bedroom walls had turned gold, and when sounds of movement could be heard from Vermin and Horse-Face's room, Harry cleared his desk of crumpled pieces of parchment and reread our finished letter that had taken far too long for us to finish. Each time we had gotten close we had argued that it was the wrong thing to say or sounded too urgent.

Dear Sirius,

Thanks for your last letter. That bird was enormous; it could hardly get through my window. Tara says that it's a toucan. She says hi, too, by the way.

We got to go back to her old house in the United States a few weeks ago. I saw her old friends (I've met them once before) and traveled around with them a little bit. Wish you could have come. I think that you would have liked it. We got to play on the Stars Quidditch Pitch. Mr. Nox says that you have to come once they clear your name and see if you're just as good as you used to be.

Things are the same as usual here. Dudley’s diet isn’t going too well. My aunt found him smuggling doughnuts into his room yesterday. They told him they’d have to cut his pocket money if he keeps doing it, so he got really angry and chucked his PlayStation out of the window. That’s a sort of computer thing you can play games on. Bit stupid really, now he hasn’t even got Mega-Mutilation Part Three to take his mind off things.

I’m okay, mainly because the Dursley's are terrified you might turn up and turn them all into bats if I ask you to.

A weird thing happened this morning, though. My scar hurt again. So did Tara's hand. We don't know much about it, just that she felt the same pain when she saw Voldemort. Last time that happened to me was because Voldemort was at Hogwarts. But I don’t reckon he can be anywhere near us now, can he? Do you know if curse scars sometimes hurt years afterward? Or maybe why her hand would hurt that way?

Tara thinks that we might just be overreacting. We both had the same strange dream. She thinks that our bodies are just playing tricks on us. That's what I'm starting to think too. My scar doesn't hurt anymore.

I’ll send this with Hedwig when she gets back; she’s off hunting at the moment. Say hello to Buckbeak for us.

Harry and Tara.

It was almost stunning how long the two of us had taken to come up with the letter to Sirius. But we wanted him to know that this wasn't that urgent. We were more curious than anything. Yes, that looked all right. There was no point putting in a detailed account of the dream; we didn't want it to look as though the two of us were too worried. We couldn't risk Sirius getting nervous and coming here to try and help us - thus putting himself into danger. Harry folded up the parchment and laid it aside on his desk, ready for when Hedwig returned.

She and Dai were out on a long hunt together, as they so often did. "Dudley's diet is really going that badly, huh?" I asked.

"That's putting it mildly," Harry snorted.

"Has he lost any weight?" I asked curiously.

Because the Dursley's were so terrified of Harry and my connection to Sirius, they had practically ordered him to come to my house whenever the two of us wanted to hang out together. It also helped that my parents happened to be fully qualified magical people and I might have let it slip that they were now willing to perform magic since they could blame it on Sirius. Honestly, the Dursley's were such morons that it shouldn't have been surprising. Their fear was much of the reason that I had only set foot (that they were aware of) inside of the Dursley household a few times this summer.

"If he has, all he has to do is turn around," Harry said, referring back to Dudley and his weight-loss adventure. "He'll find it."

I snorted in amusements loudly. Harry was quick to hush me. Vermin and Horse-Face had surprisingly good hearing. "Well... I guess I'm not getting any more sleep tonight," I sighed, leaning back against Harry's pillows.

"Me either."

"What are you doing today?"

"Count down the minutes until I can leave with the Weasley's for the World Cup," Harry said sadly.

"Hang in there. It's coming," I said, patting him on the leg. At that same moment, I remembered my bag that I had slung over my shoulders before leaving my house. "Oh! I almost forgot. From Mom and Dad. Leftovers."

Harry smiled. "Oh, Tara, your parents always have the best food."

With Dudley being on a diet, that meant that Harry was hardly getting a chance to eat, something that had deeply bothered my own parents. They now made dinner for four and ordered me each night to bring the leftovers to Harry. I leaned down into my bag and dug out the cold store-bought fried chicken. It would have been better warm, but unfortunately Harry was going to have to make do this way. We might not have ever made our own food in my household, but we had always gotten the best frozen or pre-heated food from the Muggle grocery stores.

Honestly, Muggles did have some pretty great inventions. I was convinced that we would have starved long ago without microwaves or a stove. How people like Mrs. Weasley cooked was beyond me. I supposed that I was like a Muggle in that way. I rooted around in my bag a little deeper as Harry dug into the fried chicken. I pulled out some extra chocolate and candy that I had been smuggling him all summer long and split it between us. As Harry downed a Chocolate Frog, I munched on a Sugar Quill and the two of us chatted about the upcoming year.

After a while I leaned back and pressed my hand over my eyes. "I can't believe that I dropped Music but not Divination. What kind of moron am I?" I moaned.

"A massive one," Harry said.

"Oh, thanks," I snapped, throwing the Sugar Quill stick at him. "Why didn't you drop it, then?"

"Can't. If I drop Divination, I won't have enough classes to fill up my schedule. I'd have to take something else, which I can't do now that I'm past the introductory year," Harry explained.

"At least we can suffer together," I teased.

Harry smiled. We had both hated Divination since attending our first class last year. It was the art of Seeing, but without a real Inner Eye, it was almost impossible. Because of that, Hermione had stunned our entire class by giving up and walking out. I'd wanted to drop the class, but Professor McGonagall had recommended keeping it if I wanted to be an Auror one day. Apparently it made me look more rounded out than it would if I had kept either Ancient Studies or Music - both of which I enjoyed much more than Professor Trelawney's predictions of the many ways that I would die.

"I'll have to ask Cedric how Alchemy is. I wanna take that in Sixth Year," I said thoughtfully.

"Hogwarts offers Alchemy?" Harry asked.

"Sixth and Seventh Year students only. Cedric mentioned to me that he was taking it this year," I explained,

"Another class for Hermione," Harry said.

"Oh, definitely," I laughed. I was honestly surprised that she wasn't going to continue suffering with the Time-Turner so that she could take all of her classes. "Honestly I can't wait to drop Astronomy."

"Can we?" Harry asked excitedly.

Obviously he was thrilled at the thought of never having to deal with Snape and Potions again. "In Sixth Year, depending on how you do on your O.W.L.'s. You can only advance to Sixth Year classes if your score is good enough," I explained. Even with Cedric's help, I would never pass an Astronomy O.W.L. "So we know that my Astronomy one won't be."

"Sounds tough," Harry mumbled, paling slightly.

Perhaps I shouldn't have panicked him about schoolwork on our summer break... "Nah. Cedric said that as long as you study a lot, you'll be fine," I said half-truthfully. The O.W.L.'s were apparently killer, but Harry was a better student than I gave him credit for. "The only problem that he mentioned was that Snape requires you to have an Outstanding to advance to N.E.W.T. level. If you don't, it really limits what you can do after Hogwarts."

"Marvelous," Harry groaned.

There was no doubt in my mind that Dumbledore would have to step in to keep Snape from purposely failing us and keeping us out of his N.E.W.T. level class. I wanted to be an Auror - as I figured that Harry did too - and that meant that the two of us needed to be in Potions in Sixth and Seventh Year. But Snape hated us more than he hated anyone else and had tried many times to get us expelled from Hogwarts. I imagined that the last thing that he wanted to do was teach us for another four years when he would much rather kill us.

"I was thinking the same thing," I sighed.

"Did Diggory pass?" Harry asked.

Cedric was a Hufflepuff, who Snape still didn't like, but didn't despise nearly as much as he did the Gryffindor students. "Yeah. But guess what?" I said happily.

"Hmm?"

"Apparently it's about the Polyjuice Potion."

The two of us stared at each other for a few moments before bursting into laughter, having to hide our faces in Harry's pillow to keep the Dursley's from hearing us. When Cedric had first told me about the Polyjuice Potion, I had nearly lost it. While incredibly difficult to brew, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were masters with it. Sort of. To find out who the Heir of Slytherin was during our Second Year to stop a string of attacks on the students, we had used the Polyjuice Potion to sneak into the Slytherin Common Room. It had been completely useless, other than getting my first kiss sprung on me.

What had horrified me at the time (getting kissed by my least favorite person in Hogwarts when I was disguise as my second least favorite person) was now a funny memory. "That ought to be good," Harry said, calming down a little.

The look on Snape's face when he realized that Harry and I knew better than anyone else about the Polyjuice Potion - thereby meaning that he couldn't fail us - it would make the kiss with Draco Malfoy well worth it. The two of us sat together for a little while longer before Harry finally got to his feet, stretched, and opened his wardrobe once more. Without glancing at his reflection, he started to get dressed, looking like he was about ready to go down to breakfast. It was still early, but I assumed that he couldn't sleep.

"You know that it's barely six in the morning, right?" I asked Harry dryly.

"Better than trying to go back to sleep after that," Harry shrugged.

At least he was trying to avoid having another freaky nightmare. "That's true," I said, standing up and heading back to the window. "I'm gonna head back and see if I can get some more sleep before tomorrow."

"Alright. Goodnight, Tara."

"Night, Harry."

I was about halfway out of the window when Harry called out, "Tara?"

"Yeah?" I asked, turning back to him.

"We're at an agreement?" Harry asked. I raised a brow, wondering what he was talking about. "If we have another nightmare that seems even slightly off, or we continue feeling the pain that we felt tonight, we tell someone about it. No more waiting."

He was right about one thing. We couldn't keep waiting and pretending that there were no problems with us. It had led to a few near disasters over the past few years. During our First Year we had tried to ignore the Sorcerer's Stone and that had nearly led to Voldemort coming back. During our Second Year we had tried to ignore the writing on the wall and that had nearly led to Voldemort coming back (again). Was this another thing that we were ignoring with the threat of Voldemort coming back?

Judging by the look on Harry's face, I knew that it was best to just agree with him. "No more waiting," I agreed. "We've been lucky in the past. But this one seemed different. I just don't want to get everyone in a huff if there's nothing to be worried about."

As I once more tried to climb out of Harry's window, he called back to me again. "You're planning on doing something, aren't you?" Harry asked accusingly.

"Do you really want to know?" I asked.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "What are you planning?"

"Bet you that there's a fireplace in Little Hangleton," I said sneakily. Harry's face fell. "Wherever that is," I added dumbly.

Harry grabbed my arm and started pulling me back into the bedroom. "Tara, if this really just happened, you have to know that it's a terrible idea to go there," Harry started. "You'll be walking right into -"

"Nothing," I interrupted. "If it really just happened, they'll know that someone's going to come for Frank Bryce and his body. They'll have to leave." It would be the middle of the day. No one would be there. I would be perfectly safe. "But if I can go and see what's become of him... I don't know. Just to see if something really did happen out there."

Harry still didn't look convinced. "Tara -"

"It'll be the middle of the day," I pointed out.

"You really think that's a good idea?"

"Yeah!" I chirped excitedly. Harry stared at me. "Well... no, but I'm going to do it anyways. I'll use the excuse that I'll be in Diagon Alley all day and I'll be back for dinner. No one will be any the wiser."

"And if you're caught?" Harry asked.

"I've been pretty successful with not getting caught so far," I said.

How many times had we done something stupid and not been caught? Going down into the dungeons to save the Sorcerer's Stone in First Year, a few unauthorized trips to Hogsmeade over the past two years, going down into the Chamber of Secrets in our Second Year, and saving both Buckbeak and Sirius just last year. Those were only a few of them. We had illegally brewed Polyjuice Potion. We had cursed a teacher. We had gone out after hours a number of times. Snuck into the Restricted Section of the library. It didn't seem to end.

"Tara -"

"You can't come with me, right?" I interrupted. Harry looked like he was about to argue that he would go with me when I spoke over him again. "You have to behave for the next few days if you want to go to the Quidditch World Cup." Harry stared at me, knowing that I was right. "Exactly. I'll do it alone and be fast. No one will realize that I was even gone. This is our chance to get some real answers."

Harry stared at me for a long few seconds before nodding. "Bring that cellphone that you have. Call if there are any problems," he snapped.

"You have my word," I promised, placing my hand over my heart.

"Come over when you're back, alright?"

"Deal. Love you, Harry."

"Love you too, Tara."

The two of us exchanged another hug as I swung a leg over his windowsill and threw myself onto the trellis outside of his bedroom. I was about halfway out when one of the neighbors walked out of their house. In a sudden panic, I dropped off of the trellis and whacked into the ground. The breath went out of my lungs and I heard Harry question if I was alright. I quickly hopped back to my feet and nodded at him, heading to the trellis on my own house. I scaled it in seconds and literally threw myself back into my bedroom.

As I tried to gather my breath back from the two impacts, I dragged myself back into my bed. I was in a lot more pain than I had been expecting after that fall. Maybe it was getting to the point that I wouldn't be able to do that anymore. As I glanced off to the side of my dresser, I grinned at the many moving pictures that sat in a mess on top of it. One of the biggest ones was of me and my parents standing in front of the Magical Congress and smiling at the camera. In ones next to them were my old friends from the States, who I had met at the Ilvermorny summer program.

Despite having not seen them much over the past few years, they had still been a huge part of my life. And I did write to them occasionally. We all still said happy birthday to each other and got together whenever I came to the States during the summers. Sitting all around the dresser were pictures of my friends from Gryffindor. My roommates Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, and Fay Dunbar were all in a picture during a girl's night. Harry and Ron's roommates Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnegan were all in a picture of us playing soccer.

Next to the picture with the boys was a picture of me with the Weasley's. We were all having a good time playing an impromptu game of Quidditch in their yard. Since they lived so far from Muggles, we were easily able to do it as long as we stayed low to the ground. Ginny and I were tossing the Quaffle back and forth, Fred and George were trying to knock us out of the air, Ron was flying behind us, Percy was rolling his eyes at us, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were smiling at us from the ground. It was a sweet picture.

Scattered all over the room were pictures of me with Harry from every age. There were lots of pictures of the two of us as babies, before Voldemort's attack had separated us. There were some from before our Hogwarts days - at the zoo, the park, and even at school. There were many of us during the summers and some from Hogwarts. Sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room, chatting at breakfast together, laying out by the Black Lake, and laughing with the others on the Hogwarts Express.

On the far corner of the dresser was one of my favorite pictures that I had. Hermione had invited me to go on vacation with her earlier in the summer. Her parents were Muggles and both were dentists, so they typically vacationed in normal spots. They had gone to Italy this year that the two of us had spent the afternoon sitting at an ice cream shop. Her parents had returned just before the sun had set and had taken a rather cute picture of the two of us with ice cream smeared all over our faces in the middle of a laugh.

My favorite picture that I had was sitting at the front of the dresser. There was another picture of Harry and me off to the side to keep my parents from questioning why that particular one was sitting up front. It was a picture from a few weeks ago. Cedric and I were standing in front of the Leaky Cauldron, smiling at the camera and holding our Butterbeer's. An older witch had thought that we made an adorable couple and Cedric had asked her to take the picture. I hadn't wanted to, but on seeing how cute it was, I had asked if I could keep it.

Cedric Diggory was quite the issue in my life right now - at least, the only issue that I wanted to deal with, since it wasn't related to Voldemort. We had known each other since just before I started Hogwarts, but had only started dating a few months into my Third Year. I had still yet to tell my parents about our relationship and had no plans to tell them anytime soon. I kept trying to but I couldn't find the words to do it. I knew that it had to come soon, since we had already nearly been caught a few times. The closest was just last week.

Cedric and I were sitting together at my house in the middle of the day while my parents were out. It was the weekend and I'd had nothing better to do so I had invited him over to come and do something. Which turned out to be nothing more than sitting on the couch, watching the Muggle television, which fascinated Cedric, since he had never used one before. MTV was playing at the moment. I laid back on the couch with my legs thrown over Cedric's lap. He clearly didn't understand what the fascination was behind the show that we were watching.

"If the station is Music Television, why does it not play music or music videos?" Cedric asked slowly.

"It used to. Just a few years ago they stopped," I explained.

"What did it used to be?"

"Music videos that played around the clock. At night they would have a couple really funny comedy shows. Then by the morning it would be back to music videos."

"Why did they stop?"

That wasn't something that I had ever thought of. But it was the reason that I had stopped watching it for the most part. I missed the music. "I don't know. It might have been a money thing. You'd get more money with advertising during a reality program then you would for a music video. I guess people like the reality television stuff more," I guessed.

"Muggles watch this crap?" Cedric scoffed.

"Hey!" I barked, kicking him. "I watch this crap."

Cedric stared at me like I had lost my mind. "I can't believe that I'm dating you. I've never been so ashamed of you," he teased.

"Oh, shut up," I huffed.

"This is really what you do when I'm not around?"

"I have a social life outside of you, thank you very much," I snapped.

"Sure you do," Cedric teased.

"What? How dare you!"

The two of us laughed madly as I launched after him, moving for the first time for what felt like hours. I sprang onto him as I knocked him back onto the couch. Cedric laughed as I threw him over my waist. He rolled us back over as I reached my legs up and wrapped them around his waist, tightening them in a constricting grip, not daring to lighten up. The two of us wrestled back and forth for a little while, Cedric unable to get out of my grip, before he finally pulled me into a kiss. We stayed locked together like that for a long time when the front door snapped open.

Fearing that it might have been my parents - and really not wanting to get caught in this position (which would have likely gotten the both of us killed) - I reached my legs around Cedric and kicked him roughly in the chest. He went flying off of me and whacked into the ground. I could hear him grunt as he landed on his stomach. I quickly rolled off of the couch and onto the floor, dropping to my knees as the front door closed. Cedric looked like he was about to get up when I shoved him down into a push-up position.

"Come on, you big baby! You're only on twenty!" I shouted.

Thankfully he was quick on the take-up. Cedric began doing push-ups, feigning struggle like he had been doing them for a long time. "You're starting to sound like Oliver Wood," he groaned.

"You see? This is why you've never won the Quidditch Cup," I shot back.

At that moment, as the two of us managed to calm down, Mom and Dad turned the corner and walked into the living room. I felt like a complete moron. I hadn't even bothered to ask if it was alright that Cedric came over. I had figured that the two of us would spend a little while together and he would leave before they ever even knew that he was here. Mom and Dad stared at the two of us confusedly, clearly trying to figure out what had happened, as they walked up to the two of us.

"Tara? Cedric?" Mom asked, clearly surprised to see him. "We didn't know that you were here."

We both sat up and I jumped to my feet, trying to give the least guilty smile that I could. "Sorry. I know that I should have said something, but we were just doing some Quidditch training and you always let Harry come over so I figured that this wouldn't be much different," I said dumbly. They both nodded slowly. "It's okay, right?"

"Well -" Dad started.

"Yes, darling, it's fine," Mom interrupted, giving Dad a look. "Just let us know in the future."

"Of course," I said brightly.

If I wasn't going to get in trouble for this (or caught) I would do whatever they wanted. Dad gave Cedric a hand up and patted him on the back "Since our girl has likely been bullying you all afternoon -"

"Hey!" I interrupted.

"Cedric, would you like to stay for dinner?" Dad asked.

Cedric smiled. "Certainly. Thank you, sir."

Stay for dinner... They certainly wouldn't have asked that if they had seen what the two of us had just been doing. "Can you two start getting the pots and pans out of the cupboard?" Mom asked.

"Sure. Come on," I said, dragging Cedric into the kitchen. The two of us ran in and laughed as we leaned up against the counter, wiping the sweat of stress off of our brows. "Damn that was close."

"I'll say. Good cover," Cedric whispered.

"Thanks. You okay? I dropped you kind of hard," I said guiltily.

"Better than falling fifty feet from a broomstick."

"Fair."

The two of us grabbed all of the pots and pans that we needed for a while before Cedric turned back to me. "They're suspicious, you know," he said.

Of course. I could see it in their eyes. "I know. I'm working on it."

"Come on. We should get everything ready," Cedric said, grabbing my arm and pulling me with him.

It made complete sense that they were suspicious. Honestly, I would have been surprised if they weren't suspicious. It was rather obvious that they were because the two of us were constantly so jumpy around each other. It also didn't help that the two of us were spending a lot more time together this summer than usual. We did usually see each other a bit, but we had seen each other almost twice as much this summer. Plus Mom did know about my crush on him from last year. But I couldn't just spit it out after we had been so careful not to get caught.

One day I would get around to telling them the truth about what was happening between the two of us. Perhaps when I was in my Fifth Year. At least at that point they couldn't argue that they hadn't been dating at my age. I knew that they both had been in semi-serious relationships in their Fifth Year. Yes, one day I would tell them. But that day just wasn't quite yet. Perhaps I would write them a letter once I was back at school telling them the truth. They couldn't kill either of us that way. But that also might incite a Howler.

Another problem for another day. In the meantime, there was something much more important than I had to deal with. As I climbed back into bed and shut the blinds, I went into my cabinet drawer and went searching for the Muggle cell phone that I had bought from a Muggle junk shop in London a few weeks ago. I went into the contacts list and dialed the only number in the phone book. It was only to talk to one person about our business plan anyways. The other line rang for a few seconds before the person on the other end finally picked up.

"Hello?" Fred Weasley's groggy voice asked.

"Freddie. Did I wake you?" I asked.

Fred gave a slight groan on the other end but was otherwise quiet for a little bit. "Well... yes, Tara, you did. You know that it's not even five o'clock in the morning?" Fred groaned.

"It's almost six in the morning, liar," I said.

"Whatever. It's Saturday morning!" Fred snapped. "No one should be awake this early."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Should I call you back later?" I asked, feeling a little guilty.

"What would be the point now? I'm already awake," Fred pointed out.

Perhaps I should have looked at the clock before calling him. "Sorry about that. I didn't really bother thinking about what time it was. I just knew that I was awake," I said stupidly. Fred hummed on the other end of the phone, still sounding half-asleep. "Weren't you telling me the other week that you were actually quite good at geography?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Have you ever heard of a place called Little Hangleton?"

"Little Hangleton?" Fred repeated. I hummed at him. "Yeah... I think I've heard of it. It's a small village in Yorkshire."

And just what the hell was that supposed to mean? "English, Freddie," I snapped. Fred huffed. "How far is it?"

"From you?"

"Yeah."

Fred was quiet for a few moments. "Oh, I don't know. I'd be willing to guess that it would be about three hundred and twenty kilometers away or so," he reasoned.

"American, Freddie," I barked.

"Two hundred miles, you wanker," Fred snapped. Maybe one day I would learn the metric system. Until then, I settled for scowling into the phone. "It's just a small Muggle community. Nothing of importance, I'd think. Why?"

"Had a strange dream that I think took place there. Nothing to worry about," I said quickly.

Stupidly I hadn't even bothered to think about what Fred would say once I asked him where Little Hangleton was. I had assumed that he would just give me my answer and hang up. But he was one of my best friends. Of course he would be curious about why I wanted to know about a little Muggle town of seemingly no consequence to either one of us. Now what was I supposed to say? I had a dream that Voldemort was there and murdered a Muggle man so I thought that I would take a day trip to check it out. No. Bad idea.

"Is that so?" Fred asked disbelievingly. I hummed dumbly. "It seems a little odd that you would have a dream of no consequence that would still, for some odd reason, possess you to call me at five-thirty in the morning just to ask me where the village was."

"Maybe I also missed you. Is that so hard to believe?" I snapped, hoping to distract him.

"It's near impossible, Tara," Fred said.

"Oh, shut up. Thanks for answering my question."

"Thanks for waking me up," Fred growled.

"Anytime," I teased.

"What are you asking about Little Hangleton for?"

Say something, Tara. Something that wouldn't make him wonder if I was doing something abnormally dangerous. "We have some family that I know lives not far from here. About a hundred miles or so. I was thinking that it might have been Little Hangleton, but clearly I was wrong," I said.

"That sounds likely," Fred scoffed.

He was almost always able to call out my lies. Try something else. "Wow, you're grouchy," I teased.

"When you wake me up with a stupid question at five-thirty in the morning? Yes, Tara, no matter how much I love you, I'll be a little grouchy," Fred pointed out.

"I really am sorry about that," I said, feeling a little guilty.

It should have occurred to me that it was a weekend and Fred might have still been sleeping. He always had slept in a lot anyways. "It's alright," Fred said. He was quiet for so long that I thought he might have fallen asleep when he spoke again. "Hey, we're coming to get Harry soon for the Quidditch World Cup. Mum sent him a letter but we're not really sure if it's going to get through. Either way, we're coming."

"Awesome!" I chirped happily. I couldn't wait for us all to be back together. "Mom and Dad said that I was okay to leave with you guys and they'll meet us the night before the World Cup starts."

"Can't wait to have you," Fred said.

"Can't wait to light my hair on fire, more likely."

"Now why would I do that? I love you."

There was the overly familiar teasing note in Fred's voice that warned me not to trust him. "That's exactly why you would do it," I pointed out. Fred laughed softly. "Rooting for Ireland, then?"

"Of course. Ron's in love with Krum, so he'll be rooting for Bulgaria."

"He's got a problem."

"That's what I've been saying for years," Fred said. We both laughed softly that time. Ron really did have a crush on the Bulgarian Seeker. I was sure about that. "What about Diggory?"

"What about him?" I asked slightly defensively.

"He going?"

"Honestly, you sound just like Harry," I scoffed. "Yes, he's going. He'll be going with his father."

"Still working on keeping your secret?"

"Yes, and it's been going reasonably well. I'd like to keep it that way. I have your word that you'll keep your mouth shut?"

"Well..."

"Freddie!" I snapped.

If there was anyone who I could trust to spill my secret, it was definitely Fred and George. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, I won't say anything about you or your stupid boyfriend," Fred said carelessly.

"The amount of sincerity in that statement just kills me," I said tonelessly. Fred scoffed. "Is the day ever going to come that any of you like him even the slightest bit?"

"They might," Fred said pointedly.

"As for you?" I asked.

"No. Probably not," Fred said quickly.

"He's not that bad. You might like him."

Years would pass before any of them - save Hermione and Ginny - even bothered to give him a chance. "You might forget that I've known Diggory longer than you have. He's in my year. I've known him for six years," Fred pointed out.

What was that supposed to mean? "Is this the part where you tell me that he's not as good as I think that he is?" I asked.

"No, because I don't want to lie to you. Diggory is a good guy. I know that he is," Fred said. I smiled slightly. That was surprisingly nice. "But that doesn't mean that I have to like him."

"Just tell me why you don't like him," I pleaded.

"Because he likes you."

"That's a terrible excuse."

"Don't want to see you get hurt?" Fred tried.

"That's better but still not good enough."

"Okay," Fred said slowly. His line was quiet for a moment as he thought about another excuse for not liking him. "How about the fact that I don't want to see you snog someone..."

Something about his thought seemed unfinished. "Was that the end of the thought?" I asked curiously.

"Yes."

"What a good older brother you are. Ginny is lucky."

"Oh, please don't say that," Fred groaned.

All six of her brothers were destined to give her a terrible time the moment that she got herself her first boyfriend. "Funny how it works out, isn't it?" I asked slowly. Fred hummed in confusion. "Boys always hate their sisters or friends boyfriends but girls never seem to have a problem with their brothers or friends' girlfriends."

"Is that so?" Fred asked.

"Seems that way," I said.

"So you'd have no problem with me snogging someone?" Fred asked pointedly.

In the back of my mind, an image formed of Fred kissing some pretty blonde girl in one of the hallways of Hogwarts between classes. To my complete surprise, there was a slight tugging behind my stomach. I bristled slightly at the thought of someone kissing Fred. Maybe it was because I had never seen someone kiss him before - although I was sure that he had had at least one before. I was the first of my friends to date. I guessed that I just wasn't used to people kissing in front of me. Of my friends, at least. That must have been it.

"Just make sure that she's good to you," I eventually said.

Fred chuckled quietly. "Deal. You make sure that Diggory stays good enough for you."

"Deal," I agreed. The air was oddly tense between the two of us. "Hey, while I'm at the Burrow, want to show me everything that you two have been working on over the summer?"

The twins had been hard at work over the summer. In fact, I was sure that it was the most work that I had ever seen them do. They were racking up costs from everything that they were trying to work on. Money was their biggest problem right now. I was able to help them out for some tester products of their mobile prank shop, but even I didn't have enough money for them to do a real start-up. Right now I was assisting with their accounting, and the latest number that I had gotten was far too high. They would never be able to afford it so I had kept it to myself.

"Absolutely!" Fred said happily. "Could use your opinion on a few things."

"Awesome. Can't wait to see what you two have up your sleeves."

"We'll just have to make sure that mum is asleep when we do it. She's not too happy with the few O.W.L.'s we got," Fred said.

"With Percy, Bill, and Charlie in the family? Didn't think that she would be."

"She thinks that the joke shop is a joke."

With three very successful older brothers in the traditional right, Fred and George's love of pranks and jokes didn't go over well with Mrs. Weasley. "Don't let her tell you that, Freddie. I see how hard the two of you are working on it. It might not be what she wants for her kids, but this is what you two love. When she sees how wonderful you are with it and how much you love it, she'll come around," I said sweetly.

"Thanks, Tara."

"You're welcome. See you soon then?"

"See you in a few days."

"Bye, Freddie. Love you."

"Love you too, Tara. Don't get into too much trouble without me."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Going to find out if Voldemort and his right-hand servant had really murdered a man after discussing killing Harry and taking me - in the exact place that they had done it - probably qualified as dangerous, but I wasn't going to tell him that. I merely hung up the phone and tossed it back in the bedside table. I dropped down in the bed, not quite ready to face what was sure to be an eventful day, and wondered just how I was going to get to Little Hangleton and find out exactly what had happened.


	2. Chapter Two

For a while, I laid in my bed and stared at the ceiling. Counted the blades on the fan, watched them whirl around and around, tossed my blanket around with my feet, and rolled over myself to try and find a comfortable position. No matter how hard I tried, it was very obvious that there was no way that I was getting back to sleep tonight. Partially because I couldn't and partially because I was nervous to actually go back to sleep. I didn't want to potentially suffer a dream about Voldemort, Wormtail, or Nagini again.

Eventually, I gave up on sleep and decided to just stay awake. It was almost daytime again, anyways. Sleeping now would just make me drowsy when it was time to really wake up. I stayed awake and stared at the last present that the mystery sender had given me a few weeks ago. I fingered at the piece of metal for a little while, wondering what the hell it was supposed to mean. The red gems were the Sorcerer's Stone. The snakeskin was from the Basilisk. The rat tails last year had been for Wormtail and Sirius.

But what was this one supposed to mean? A little piece of metal with seemingly no significance. There were so many things that were metal. It would take me forever to figure it out. That was the problem. The notes never made sense until after the year was over. I needed to figure them out sooner. The note didn't help either. See you soon. To me, that would have meant a few days or even a few weeks. But it had been a month and I hadn't seen the mystery man yet. At least, I was reasonably positive that I hadn't. I didn't realize it if I had. How soon was soon supposed to mean?

Apparently, it wasn't that soon. I wasn't sure whether or not I wished that it was. I wanted to know why this person was constantly sending me things to try and help me. At least, it seemed like they were trying to help me. But that didn't stop the sinking feeling in my stomach. Not that I really knew what it was for. Perhaps it was because I was afraid that I was really going to meet the mystery sender soon. The problem was that I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to meet them. Would that person be dangerous? Who knew?

Eventually, enough time had passed that I could hear Mom and Dad moving around downstairs. The lights flashed on and the television was quietly murmuring with the Muggle news. So I decided to get up and enact my plan slightly earlier than I had originally planned. I was going to head to The Leaky Cauldron and then to Flourish and Blotts. From there I would head straight to Little Hangleton where I would see if I could go find that old house. Or maybe even find out who Frank Bryce was. If it all worked out perfectly I would have all of my answers and be back before dinner.

Plus no one could know the truth of what I was doing - save Harry. Fred, too, if he was a little bit smarter. I would have to distract him if he started asking about Little Hangleton and our phone call last night. I dressed quickly in simple clothes before pulling on my hiking boots (just in case), tying up my hair, and grabbing my Muggle cell phone before heading downstairs. Mom was sipping a cup of tea at the kitchen counter as she cooked and Dad was staring down at the Prophet, looking irritated about something that he was reading.

Mom glanced up from her tea to smile at me. "Morning, darling," she chirped.

"Morning, kiddo," Dad greeted, barely looking up from his paper.

"Morning," I responded.

"Breakfast?" Mom asked.

"No, thanks."

"No? It's your favorite. Waffles," Mom said.

How was this the one day that she decided to make waffles, the one food that she could make? "Of course you would make my favorite breakfast on the one morning that I couldn't have it," I grumbled irritably.

"Can't have it? Better plans?" Mom teased.

Better? Absolutely not. Maybe, at least. "In a way," I said mysteriously.

"Off to save the Wizarding World, are we?" Dad asked, grinning at me.

"Something like that," I said. I thought about my lie for a moment before saying, "Hermione's going to Diagon Alley for the day with her parents and invited me to come and have breakfast with them. You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not," Mom said, smiling as she pushed back some stray hairs off of my forehead. "We'll save you some waffles for dinner, yeah?"

"Perfect," I grinned.

"Tell Mr. and Mrs. Granger that we said hello," Dad said.

"I will."

"Hermione, too!" Mom added.

"I will!"

"Tara?" Dad called.

"Yeah?" I asked, turning back nervously.

Please don't realize that something is wrong... "You alright?" Dad asked, getting to his feet and walking over to me. He was staring at me curiously. "You look a little... worn-out. No offense, sweetheart."

Well if that was all that he thought was wrong with me, it was perfectly fine. I was definitely worn out. Nothing that a little bit of makeup and some much-needed sleep wouldn't help. "Believe it or not, some offense was still taken," I said teasingly. Both Mom and Dad grinned. "I'm fine. Honestly. I didn't sleep that well last night, but I'll be fine. I'll turn in early tonight."

Dad still looked slightly suspicious, but he nodded anyway. "If you're sure," he said slowly.

"Positive," I confirmed. "See you all a little later."

"Have fun today!" Mom chirped.

"Thanks! I'm sure I will..." I muttered, walking off towards the stairs.

Very briefly I dashed upstairs and pulled a piece of paper from my bedside. I was notorious for forgetting my dreams so I made a quick note of Frank Bryce's name, Voldemort, and a few small details from what I remembered, including Little Hangleton and the Riddle House. Once I had finished, I folded the note up, tucked it into my back pocket, and dashed back down towards the fireplace. I slipped into the fireplace and grabbed a handful of Floo powder from our vase. There was only one way to find out exactly what that dream meant.

"The Leaky Cauldron!" I called.

As the green flames lit up around me I heard Mom and Dad call back a final goodbye. I would have to figure out what I wanted to tell them about my day a little while later. As I swirled down through the fireplace I cried out in surprise. I would always hate having to deal with Floo powder. A few seconds after I had left my own home I was blown into the fireplace of the Leaky Cauldron, which was far dirtier than any of the other fireplaces that I had been in recently. Pushing myself back to my feet, I groaned in disgust. I'd definitely need a shower tonight.

"Sorry about that, Tara!" Tom, the bartender, called as I brushed myself off and entered the bar. "Most people just use Flourish and Blotts. Haven't had a chance to clean mine in weeks!"

"So I see," I muttered mostly to myself. "It's alright, Tom!"

"Where you headed?" Tom asked curiously.

"Oh, just off to explore, you know. Getting antsy to get back to Hogwarts," I said vaguely.

Tom knew my parents, so I had to be careful with what I said. Thankfully he had never been one to pry. "Sounds about right. Starting to get a lot of the Hogwarts crowd running around Diagon Alley these days. Have a good one, Tara," Tom said happily.

More Hogwarts students meant more business for him. "Thanks, Tom! See you later," I called back.

Giving Tom and a few of the older ladies who were hanging around a smile, I turned on my heel and headed out of the Leaky Cauldron, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. I really didn't need any questions right now. I headed over to Flourish and Blotts as quickly as possible. In all honesty, I wasn't really sure why I didn't just go there first. It would have been completely believable to say that I was going to meet Hermione in a bookstore. But I was a moron and said breakfast and now I was covered in soot and ash.

As I walked down the hallway towards Flourish and Blotts, I tried to pull myself together a little bit. The people in Little Hangleton couldn't think that I was some crazy foreigner and call the cops on me. That would be the perfect ending to my day. I was still in the process of removing dirt and dust from my clothes and hair when I walked right into someone. I staggered back a few steps and opened my mouth to prepare an apology when I looked up at the person I had run into. To my surprise, it was Cedric. The hope in my chest deflated. I would have to get away from him.

He would never let me go to Little Hangleton without a real explanation. "Good morning," I chirped as happily as possible.

"Good morning. You look in an awful hurry to get somewhere," Cedric teased.

"Well, I suppose that I am on a slightly time-sensitive mission."

"Ah. Is that so?"

"Yes," I said, trying to sidestep him. "Now if you'll excuse me -"

Before I could get more than two steps, Cedric called after me. "You know, The Leaky Cauldron is back the way you came."

"What?" I asked dumbly, turning back to him. "I know. I just came from The Leaky Cauldron."

"So where are you headed for this marvelous adventure?" Cedric asked playfully.

Immediately I knew that he had already been tipped off that something was wrong. "Um... Flourish and Blotts where I will be picking up a book and devouring it all throughout the day. It will be very boring, I doubt that you'll want to sit and watch me read," I said as convincingly as I possibly could.

Cedric's brow rose. "Oh, you'll be reading today, will you?"

"Yes. Is that so unbelievable?"

Cedric hummed for a moment. "It would be very believable if you were sitting at home in your pajamas. Not out in Diagon Alley in what appear to be hiking boots. Plus, why would you have come through The Leaky Cauldron's fireplace if you were planning on just heading to Flourish and Blotts eventually anyways?" he pointed out.

Say something, Tara! Make up a good lie! "Their fireplace is closed," I said quickly.

You're a moron, Tara. Cedric raised a brow curiously. "Is it?" he asked slowly.

"Yes."

"Alright."

Did he seriously believe me? "Pardon me, then," I said slowly.

There was no way that I could give him a second to overthink what I had just said. I had to get out of here before he realized that I was telling a lie, which he likely already knew. As I went to move past Cedric, I leaned up on my tiptoes and pressed a small kiss against his mouth. His hands dropped down to my hip to give them a quick squeeze. Cedric grinned at me as I pulled away from him. What the hell was that playful smile for? Nothing good, I was sure. I was headed off towards Flourish and Blotts when Cedric called me back.

"You forgot that we had plans today, didn't you?"

Instantly I stopped dead in my tracks, practically stumbling over myself. His words zipped through my head over and over again. What the hell was he talking about? We didn't have plans today. Did we? Knowing myself, there was a good chance that I had actually forgotten that we had plans today. Were we supposed to get lunch? Go on a walk? Head to see a movie? None of the above? All of the above? Wonderful... Yes... I definitely forgot that we had plans today. I turned back to Cedric, who had his arms crossed over his chest as he grinned at me knowingly.

"No!" I gasped, pretending that I was horrified at his insinuation.

Cedric gave me a knowing look. I tried to keep my straight face on. "Okay..." Cedric said slowly. "What were we planning on doing today?"

Yeah, I had no idea. "Alright, yes," I admitted.

"Am I that forgettable?" Cedric teased.

"Of course not. But something slightly more... pressing came up."

"Pressing?"

"Yes. Pressing."

"What exactly was so pressing that you forgot about our date?" Cedric asked.

No way. He already thought that I hid too much from him and took on too much by myself. This would only make it worse. "Well..." I trailed off.

How was I supposed to tell him that Voldemort was very possibly coming back and trying to kill Harry and I without worrying him? There really wasn't any way for me to make it sound not terrible. "The truth is always a pleasant thing, Tara," Cedric said.

"I'm telling the truth!" I barked irritably. "Something pressing has popped up."

"Would you like to tell me what this pressing matter is?" Cedric offered.

"Not really," I said honestly.

That was enough to tip him off that there was a problem. "What's so pressing that you can't even tell me?" Cedric asked curiously.

Make it sound like it's not that important. "No, it's not that I can't tell you. It's that it's something that I have to do on my own. I... forgot that I had... a summer assignment!" I gasped suddenly, impressed with myself.

We got summer assignments all the time. It wasn't that strange. "A summer assignment?" Cedric asked curiously.

"Yeah."

"You're doing a summer assignment?"

There was a disbelieving tone in his voice. "Well if I want to graduate and keep moving forward in my classes, I can't just ignore the assignments that we're supposed to be doing," I said teasingly.

Cedric grinned. "Look at you. Actually doing your work."

"Is that so hard to believe?"

In all honesty, me doing my work on time was actually something that was rather hard to believe. Cedric gave me the tiniest smile as he pulled me in for a quick hug. I giggled softly, trying to make myself look as happy and carefree as I could. I leaned up and pressed another quick kiss against his mouth. I couldn't believe that he actually believed me, but it didn't matter. I just needed to slip away from him, make sure no one was with me, and get to the Flourish and Blotts fireplace. I could make up the date - and a better lie - to him later.

"Ah... What is this that we were planning on?" Cedric asked loudly from behind me.

I snapped back to see what he was talking about. Somehow he had the piece of paper that I had written my notes on. Damn... "How did you -?" I started breathlessly, cutting myself off. "Thief."

"Liar," Cedric shot back, reading down the list. "Little Hangleton... Frank Bryce... Riddle House... Tara, what is this?"

Idiot. His eyes clearly widened when they traced over Voldemort's name. "Uh, nothing. It's just a list of things I wanted to ask about," I said slowly, trying to put my lie together. "I have this report due in History of Magic over the summer. We have to pick a city in England and write about its magical prominence. I picked Little Hangleton."

Cedric hummed softly and nodded. "That's odd. I don't remember ever having that assignment," he said.

"It's new," I put in quickly.

"From Professor Binns, the ghost?" Cedric asked.

"Um..."

That was actually quite a good point. Of course, he was smarter than I ever gave him credit for. "Let's say for a moment that I believe that this assignment is real. Why, out of every town in England, would you pick something as inconsequential as Little Hangleton?" Cedric asked curiously.

"See? It's that attitude right there. I want people to see that Little Hangleton isn't inconsequential," I sighed exasperatedly.

Cedric rolled his eyes. Anyone who knew me even the slightest bit knew that I didn't care about a little unknown town. "Alright..." Cedric sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What's it going to take for you to tell me the truth?"

"I am telling you the truth," I snapped.

"Okay, so let me help. You shouldn't have to do this very complicated assignment all by yourself," Cedric said earnestly.

Damn me. I really needed to stop telling him about the stupid things that I did. He likely thought that I was on my way to do one of them right now - which would have been right - hence why he was so hesitant to let me walk away from him. He knew that I was lying to him about the assignment and where I was headed. It meant that he was now trying to trap me into telling him what was really going on. I couldn't just tell him that I didn't need help. That was nothing like my personality. But I couldn't invite him with me. He'd try to stop me. So, what now?

"I - I can handle it," I stuttered dumbly.

"Really?" Cedric asked teasingly. I nodded awkwardly. "I've never known you not to want help on your homework. Particularly when it comes to a course as boring as History of Magic."

He had a point there. It was one of my least favorite subjects and definitely my least favorite to study for. "I'm trying to turn over a new leaf," I said.

"Uh-huh. Tara... Tell me what's going on," Cedric goaded.

"It's nothing, Cedric. Just something that I need to get done."

"Tara -"

"Nothing!" I yelped, clearly alerting him to the fact that something was wrong. I tried to calm myself down. "Okay? Nothing. How about we get breakfast tomorrow, yeah? Make up for missing it today."

Cedric nodded thoughtfully. "Sounds wonderful. Now tell me what's going on," he said. I rolled my eyes. We were never going to get away from this. "Tara, you keep so many secrets. From your friends, your family, and me. Knowing you, I know that this one's dangerous. Please, tell me what's going on. I want to help you." I let out a soft breath as Cedric looked back down at my reminder paper. "Where have I heard that name before? Riddle?"

"It was Voldemort's name before he took on his moniker," I answered bluntly.

Cedric's head snapped up from the paper to my face. "What you're doing... this has something to do with You-Know-Who?" he asked slowly.

"I don't know. Maybe," I said bashfully.

"Tell me about it," Cedric said.

Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to get a second opinion on things... Harry and I had talked about telling someone else anyways. So I decided to just go for it. I let out a deep breath before spitting out what had happened. After all, there was no way that I was going to get away from him without admitting the truth. With that, I decided to just go for it and spill the entire story of my nightmare, why I was heading to Little Hangleton but also leaving out that Harry had seen the same nightmare. I had a feeling that telling him that would only make him panic.

Once I had finally finished my story, Cedric ran his hands through his hair. "So you think that this place could be real? Little Hangleton? You think that You-Know-Who could really be there?" he asked slowly.

"Maybe," I shrugged. I didn't really want him to be there, but if he was, it was vital that I knew and could tell someone else. "It'd be worth a check. And I know that it's a real place. I called Fred Weasley and asked him about it. He says it's a few hundred miles from here. Small mostly Muggle town."

"And Fred Weasley didn't want to know what you wanted to know for?" Cedric asked curiously.

"Of course he did. I made up some lie and since it was the middle of the night and I had woken him up, he believed me."

Cedric was silent for a few moments before saying, "You can't go to a place that you think You-Know-Who might be hiding."

"Why not?" I asked snappily.

"You know damn well why not!" Cedric shouted. I jumped slightly, not used to him speaking to me like that. Cedric let out a deep breath, calming down slightly and pressing his hands against my arms reassuringly. "He's after you, Tara. You're walking right into his trap. If he's really there, you'll be headed straight for him."

Of course, he was concerned about me. But I could handle myself. "Dumbledore himself said that Voldemort's been hiding in the forests of Albania. Safe place. Why would he leave? Even so, it's the middle of the day. Voldemort doesn't want people after him while he's still weak so he's not just going to be out for a daytime stroll. He'll either be gone or hiding," I explained. Cedric still didn't look convinced. "I plan on staying in sight of the Muggles. It'll be totally safe. And maybe I'll find out that it was just a crazy nightmare."

"You should tell Dumbledore," Cedric said after a long silence.

We were back to Dumbledore... I let out a deep breath before coming to the only conclusion that I could think of. "Are you coming with me or not?" I asked, motioning to Flourish and Blotts.

"What?" Cedric asked, bewildered.

There was no way that he was letting me go alone and I needed to get out of Diagon Alley. "I need to go and I'm running out of time. I've got a funny feeling that you're not going to let me go by myself, so either come with me or go away," I said honestly.

Cedric stared at me for a moment before closing his eyes and tilting his head back. "Merlin, help me..." he breathed. I crossed my arms over my chest as he looked back at me. "Alright, to Little Hangleton we go."

"You could always -"

"Shut up," Cedric snapped, already well-aware of where I was going with that comment. "I'm going with you."

Couldn't I have gotten a normal boyfriend who didn't care what I did as long as I was faithful? No, I had to get the knight in shining armor. Which, to be fair, was an odd thing to be complaining about. Either way, I snarled in frustration as we headed off towards Flourish and Blotts. I had really wanted to do this alone but he wasn't going to make that easy. Unless I made a run for it and tried to slip away... I bolted off as fast and unexpectedly as I could, startling Cedric for a moment, but with his long legs he caught up to me in seconds.

His arms wrapped around my waist as he yanked me back. "Not so fast, hotshot," he laughed in my ear.

"Damn you," I groaned, whacking my head against his chest as I leaned back into him. "You're faster than you look."

"Yes, I am," Cedric teased.

All of those laps from Oliver Wood and I still couldn't beat Cedric in a sprint. He gave me a playful smirk as we headed back towards Flourish and Blotts. Unfortunately that time he was smart enough to grab my hand and link our fingers as we walked, ensuring that I wasn't about to run off. I rolled my eyes at his mistrust. But, honestly, it was a smart move on his part, because I had been debating on tripping him this time. Together we walked into Flourish and Blotts, straight towards the fireplace, and stepped in. I grabbed a handful of Floo powder as we crushed into the grate together.

"You're sure about this?" Cedric asked.

No. "Yeah."

"Know where we'll end up?"

"No. Just gonna wing it."

That was something that I should have thought of, but I didn't want to think of anything that might hamper my original plan. "How you haven't died based on that thinking yet, I'll never know," Cedric laughed.

"That makes two of us," I said. Cedric snorted. "Little Hangleton!"

The moment that I shouted the name of the town, I threw the Floo powder down into the grate. The manager of Flourish and Blotts smiled at us as the bright green flames whipped up around us. My head started spinning as the two of us went shooting through the fireplaces and grates throughout England. They flashed by for a few minutes before we were spat out into the very dirty fireplace of something that looked like an old bookstore. The two of us coughed madly as we found ourselves tangled up in a dirty and ornate rug on the floor.

My head was spinning from the rather rough trip. Whatever fireplace we had ended up coming out of definitely wasn't used for travel. I tucked the extra Floo powder into my pocket as I groaned in pain. I'd be bruised up for at least a few days after this. That meant long sleeves and jeans to keep Mom and Dad from asking questions. As I gathered my bearings again, I realized that I had landed right on top of Cedric. His arms were wrapped around me to keep me from falling painfully. He gently released me and allowed me to slip to the ground.

"Oh... are you okay?" I groaned.

"I'm good. Are you?"

"Fine. That's disgusting," I said, brushing the dirt off of my clothes.

Cedric laughed as he hopped to his feet and pulled me up with him. He went to picking soot out of my hair. "Considering that most Muggles don't ever think of a fireplace as a method of transportation, they don't think about cleaning out their grates for people," he explained.

"I suppose that's a good point."

We cleaned ourselves up for a moment. Just as we managed to get ourselves back to normal, an older woman turned the corner. "Oh," she chirped, spotting the two of us. "Hello. I didn't see the two of you coming in."

"We... we uh... snuck in," I muttered dumbly.

The older woman laughed. "So I see. What can I help the two of you with?" she asked.

"We were wondering if you could tell us where the... Riddle House... is..." I said awkwardly.

Would the villagers even know what that meant? "The Riddle House... I think that the two of you were headed in the wrong direction," the woman said, realization dawning in her eyes. Had we come to the wrong fireplace? "Little Hangleton is back in the other direction. You're just on the outskirts. Head towards the hill, about two miles. Must be something going on in town."

Damn it... A two-mile walk? That would be ridiculous. That was also when her last comment hit me. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"There's been a lot of noise for the town. It's usually so quiet here," the woman said.

"Do you know what happened?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No. I try and stay out of everything."

I was about to say something else to try and push her, but Cedric stepped in. "Thank you, ma'am," he said, grabbing my hand. "We'll be on our way."

"Have a good day, kids," the woman said.

"Thank you," Cedric said.

"You too," I added.

He must have known that I was planning on trying to continue talking to her, trying to get her to tell me what was going on. He was right to pull me away before I started saying something stupid to show her that I knew more than I was letting on. Together the two of us walked outside of the store into the town. It was rather large and spread out. I could see the rolling hills and small roads running throughout the outskirts of the town. Too bad that the fireplace hadn't dropped us a little bit closer to the center of town and, in turn, the Riddle House.

As we walked out onto the road, Cedric glanced at me as if to ask me if I was sure that I was making the right choice. I immediately turned a heated glare on him. I was doing the right thing. I knew that I was doing the right thing. I needed to know that I wasn't just having terrible nightmares again, which actually would have been a relief. We walked in silence for a while, heading into the center of town. The entire time I thought about what I would do once we arrived at the Riddle House. Just walk in? Would I risk walking in on Voldemort?

"Are you sure that this is the right thing to do?" Cedric asked as we neared the town.

"I knew that you were going to say that," I sighed.

"I'm serious, Tara."

And so was I. "Yes, I'm sure that this is the right thing to do. Please trust me, Cedric," I begged softly, turning towards him and grabbing his hand. He ran his thumb over the back of my palm. "This is the right thing. I have to know if Voldemort was really in that house. If he really did something to that Muggle man. If maybe I have to start watching my back."

"You didn't even consider telling Professor Dumbledore that something was going on?" Cedric asked.

"Of course I did!" I barked immediately. I wasn't that useless. "Don't be stupid. It was the first thing that came to mind. But I realized that just me having some stupid dream and my hand kind of hurt. That would sound ridiculous."

Cedric brushed the stray hair back off of my forehead. "You know Professor Dumbledore. You know that he would never think anything that you were worried about was stupid."

"No, I know that. I just... I don't know. I don't know what I'm supposed to say."

"Start with the simple. The truth."

But there was something keeping me from doing that. I wasn't totally sure what it was. "When we get back to school," I said.

"Tara -"

"Can we just pretend that this is like... a little field trip?" I asked slowly.

"Perhaps on a trip where we're not putting your life in danger," Cedric said.

That was when something hit me. I gave Cedric such a problem in his life. He always somehow got sucked into the many problems that happened in my life. And how was that fair of me to do something like that to him? It wasn't. He deserved to be a completely normal teenage boy. Not get sucked into whatever batshit insane thing I was having to deal with for the day. I really hated thinking about it, but maybe Cedric's life would be a lot less complicated if we at least weren't romantically linked. Maybe being friends had been the right thing.

Gathering my breath, I spit out what I so desperately wished that I didn't have to. "You don't have to deal with this, you know. I know that my life can be a little overwhelming," I said awkwardly. Clearly, Cedric still didn't understand what I was getting at. "I've said it before. It comes with the territory of being Harry Potter's best friend. And I have all sorts of issues by myself, even without Harry involved in them. I understand if you don't want to be involved or you feel like you can't. If it's what you want, I'd recommend walking away now."

Cedric merely stared at me for a long time. I thought about opening my mouth and speaking again, but I figured that he needed a moment to process what I had said. It was very obvious that he was extremely baffled. The last thing that I wanted was to lose him but I could understand that my life would be hard for anyone to understand and be a part of. I didn't want to drag him into it. Cedric suddenly surprised me by grabbing my waist and pulling me into a bone-crushing kiss that took my breath away. We could have been together for hours before he finally pulled away.

But we came back for another two or three kisses. Each one more and more intense. His hands created bruises on my hips and my clothes felt like they were tearing from his grip. Those kisses were enough to make me almost forget what I had even been talking about before. I'd even forgotten why we were here in the first place. It took a long time for Cedric to finally pull away from me. When he did, I wished more than anything that he would come back. I had never had a kiss quite like that. He definitely wasn't thinking about leaving me.

"You think that after knowing you for the past few years, I don't know what it means to even just be friends with you? I know what it means, Tara. I don't plan on walking away," Cedric said breathlessly, clearly as taken aback by the kiss as I was.

"Why?" I asked.

Cedric laughed and said, "Maybe I'm just as crazy as you."

"I think you're even crazier."

We both grinned. Cedric shifted and wrapped a hand around my hip. "Instead of going to try and find the old Riddle House, the two of us could always go and -"

"What?" I interrupted snappily.

The kiss had been wonderful but there would be none of... that. "I meant just spend the day together," Cedric said, laughing.

As much as I would have loved that, I hadn't completely forgotten about the reason that we were here. "Nice try, you big baby. We're going to the Riddle House," I snapped.

"Come here," Cedric said.

"What?" I asked.

The grin on his face was enough to put one on mine, too. Cedric reached around the back of my neck to pull me into a slightly heated kiss. Not quite like the one before, but no less incredible. His hands worked slowly underneath the tank top that I was wearing as the summer heat blazed around us. It was cloudy in Little Hangleton but the heat still hung over the town. Just as I thought about deepening the kiss, I suddenly saw flashing lights through my closed eyelids. I opened my eyes and pushed away from Cedric. The Muggle police were parked up on the hill with the Riddle House.

"What's that?" I asked curiously.

Cedric pulled back and glanced behind himself. "Looks like the Muggle bobbies," Cedric said.

"What?" I asked, baffled.

"The police," Cedric explained.

"And you people say Americans are weird. Who the hell calls the police, bobbies?" I scoffed. Cedric whacked me over the back of the head. "Look at that. They're sitting up on the hill."

"Maybe we should -"

"Go check it out?" I interrupted. "Just what I was about to suggest."

"Tara -"

"Come on, you big baby. You insisted on coming."

Technically I had insisted that he come just so that I could save the argument. "Or we could go find a nice quiet -"

"Cedric?"

"Yeah?"

"Move it," I barked.

"Alright, bossy," Cedric teased.

We both laughed as the two of us headed up the hill towards the Riddle House and the gaggle of police officers. Or bobbies, apparently. We would really have to talk about that one later. Bobbies... honestly... As we approached the old house I glanced at it curiously. As much as I wished that I could be brave and pretend that this moment wasn't affecting me at all, I found myself more than a little nervous walking up to the house. There was something ominous about it. And what if Voldemort was still there? As we approached the home I saw that it wasn't just the police, a large number of people were hanging around the garden.

They all looked fascinated. Not much must have happened in the town. But were they all here for a murder? Like the old woman at the bookstore had said, it stood on a hill overlooking the village, some of its windows boarded, tiles missing from its roof, and ivy spreading unchecked over its face. Just looking at it, I could tell that it was once a fine-looking manor, and easily the largest and grandest building for miles around. But at present, the Riddle House was now damp, derelict, and unoccupied. At least, I hoped that it was still unoccupied.

"What do you think?" I asked Cedric quietly.

"Looks like it could just be a normal crime scene," he said.

"Only one way to find out," I said stubbornly. I headed up the hill slightly and into the crowd of people, Cedric on my heels. After glancing around for a moment, I walked up to an older woman. "Umm... Pardon us... What's happened here?"

The woman turned to me with a frown. "Oh, my dear, the gardener vanished last night."

Now that one I wasn't expecting. "Vanished?" I repeated dumbly.

"He didn't die?" Cedric asked.

The woman stared at him like he had grown a second head. "Die? Not that we can see. Yes. Not to worry, they don't think that foul play was involved. Looks like he just had enough of this town. It's not that surprising. He was old, had a stressful life. Well past time for him to move on," the woman explained.

Something about her comment struck me as funny. "A gardener had a stressful life?" I questioned.

This had been a nice manor once upon a time, likely Frank Bryce had worked here for at least some of it. What would have been that stressful? He had lived in that cute little cottage free of rent, so he hadn't had money problems. Maybe the owners had been a little rude and snooty, but that would have just made for an annoying job like so many people (including my parents) had. None of that seemed like it would make for a hard life. Cedric stomped on my foot, making me realize that my comment was probably rude. The woman was staring at me confusedly.

"What?" she asked.

Cedric laughed and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "Pardon her. She's a little out of her head. Ma'am, could you tell us the name of the gardener?" he asked, trying to divert the conversation.

"You don't know him?" the old woman asked. Cedric and I shook our heads. "It's old Frank. Frank Bryce."

His name echoed in my head for a few good seconds. Frank Bryce. It wasn't just a crazy dream. At least, not the entire thing. Maybe he really had vanished or maybe he really was dead. But where would the body have gone? Could Voldemort have taken or buried him? Was there a spell to erase his body? Cedric and I exchanged a long look with each other. At least now we knew that Frank Bryce was a real person. Now the question remained over whether or not he was dead and, if he was, who had been the person to kill him?

"Frank Bryce..." I mumbled.

"Oh, you must have heard about him," the woman said.

"Actually we're new in town," I spit out quickly.

The woman looked us over for a moment, her eyes lingering on Cedric and I's linked hands. "You two buying a house here?" she asked slowly.

"We -"

"We're considering it," I interrupted Cedric quickly. Maybe she would be a little more open if she thought that we were a young couple just starting out. So I leaned over and wrapped my hands around Cedric's bicep. "We're engaged, planning on buying a house soon. Just wanted to make sure that this is a safe neighborhood."

We both wore very fake smiles as Cedric planted a kiss on the top of my head. The woman's smile widened slightly. "That's nice. For the most part, yes, this is a completely safe neighborhood. Good for raising kids. If you want to know a little bit more, I suggest you head up Edgerton's, find the old historian's house. They can teach you a little bit more," the woman offered.

"Thank you, ma'am," I said.

"Alright, everyone!" the Muggle policeman began shouting. "Move along, please!"

The older woman said a quick goodbye to us before heading off. I wanted to stay and see what I could find out about the old mansion but the police were quickly pushing everyone away. It wouldn't be long before they started pushing us all away. There had to be something that I could do to get into the house. But what was it? I continued staring at the house, even when Cedric started yanking me towards where the older woman had pointed us to. I wasn't ready yet though. I wanted to see something before we left.

"We need to go," Cedric said.

"You're right..." I whispered.

Cedric clearly noticed that my gaze was still locked on the house. "Go... as in head back to town," Cedric said.

He turned to head towards town as I walked off towards the house. "Wait for a second," I said. Cedric whipped back around to me. "There's something that I need to do."

"Tara!" Cedric hissed. "The police are closing off the house."

"Exactly! If we want to see what's going on, we're going to have to sneak in before they bar every entrance," I said.

Cedric rolled his eyes. "You're out of your mind."

"So why'd you come?" I asked.

"Perhaps because you do fascinate me," Cedric teased.

"I'm your girlfriend!" I gasped.

"Exactly."

I rolled my eyes as I grabbed onto him. "Come with me," I growled.

We didn't have time to stand here and argue about whether or not we were heading towards the Riddle House. We were going. Cedric groaned as the two of us snuck around the police line towards the back of the house. We were barely winding in and out of some of the police who were still trying to clear everyone out. I had to grab Cedric's hands a number of times to ensure that no one caught us. I was definitely better at sneaking around than he was. Eventually, we landed at the back door, which was already unsurprisingly locked.

"Okay. Game over. Let's head to the historian's house," Cedric said, trying to pull me away.

But I had already known that the back door would be locked. That was obvious enough. Now I just had to go to my backup plan - whatever that might be. "You give up so easily," I told him.

As I walked down the side of the yard, Cedric rolled his eyes again. "Now I see how you and your friends found the Chamber of Secrets," he huffed.

I turned back to him and grinned. "You have to admit. We're persistent."

"So I see."

As I paced the yard, I glanced up towards the second floor of the house. They wouldn't think that someone would be trying to enter from the second floor. Perhaps there was a chance that we could enter from up there. Not that I really knew how we were going to get up there. Neither one of us were old enough to do magic without getting the Ministry involved. But I supposed that would be a problem for another day. So I looked around for a while until I spotted just the slightest crack in one of the upstairs windows.

"That window up there," I said, pointing it out to Cedric. "It doesn't look like it's locked."

Cedric followed my gaze. "The window up on the second floor?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Yeah."

"And how do we get up there, you suppose? Using the outdoor staircase?"

His voice held a teasing note. I rolled my eyes. "Don't be daft," I snapped. Cedric glared at me. "See the trellis over there?" Cedric glanced over and nodded slowly. "We're going to climb it." The moment that I said that Cedric ended up looking incredibly nervous. "Don't be worried. We have them at our houses in Little Whinging. It's how Harry and I always got into each other's houses in the middle of the night."

Cedric's head snapped over to me. "You two snuck into each other's houses in the middle of the night?" he asked.

I didn't miss the nervous tone to his voice. "Relax. We're best friends. That's it," I said reassuringly.

"Right... Conversation for another time, I suppose," he said slowly. More like a conversation that never needs to happen. "You do realize that the trellis only goes about halfway up that wall. How are we going to get into the window, genius?"

"Don't be rude," I teased. Cedric rolled his eyes. "I have a plan."

"Care to share it?" Cedric asked.

"I don't think that you want to hear it," I said honestly. "Come on!"

He paled slightly. It was obvious that Cedric didn't want to have to climb the trellis. I knew that it didn't look safe to climb the trellis. They never looked very stable and they felt even less so. The two of us wound our way to the far edge of the house where the trellis was positioned. It was just like the one at Harry's house. I placed my foot a few feet up and tested the trellis with a gentle tug. It bowed slightly but seemed otherwise stable. As long as I was fast, it would be no problem. I pulled myself up a few feet quickly before turning back to Cedric, who was still waiting below me.

"You coming?" I called down quietly.

"You're sure that this is safe?" Cedric asked, gently placing his hands on the trellis.

"It looks strong enough to support the both of us," I said, not wanting to tell him that I was slightly concerned that it might collapse. He placed his foot on the cross-section, but still looked very hesitant to climb. That was when it dawned on me. "Don't tell me that you're afraid of heights?"

Cedric looked slightly awkward. "Well, they're not my favorite thing in the world."

That was something that I hadn't known. "You're a Quidditch player!" I gasped.

"Yes, and I have a broom beneath me to keep me from free-falling," Cedric pointed out.

Well, that was a good enough point. "Come on. I'll protect you," I teased.

"Oh, shut up," Cedric scoffed.

He was so cute when he was terrified. I had never even known that he was afraid of heights. I would have never guessed that, with him being a Quidditch player and all. I giggled softly as Cedric hoisted himself up behind me. I could feel his hands closely following where I placed my feet as we climbed the trellis. I made my way to the top rather quickly as I hooked my leg over the edge of one of the balconies. With as much force as I could muster, I pushed myself into the out cove of one of the windows. Once I was safely tucked in, I turned back to see Cedric staring at me like I had lost it.

Maybe it was a little funny, seeing as I climbed the trellis like a monkey and managed to jam myself into the tiny out cove of the balcony. For one of the locked windows, of course. "Hurry up!" I hissed at Cedric.

"Where are we supposed to go, exactly?" Cedric asked breathlessly.

"Move through the windows to the one that's unlocked," I said.

They were just close enough that I would be able to stretch from one to the next to ensure that I wouldn't fall to the ground. "You've lost your mind," Cedric groaned.

"You do this or I will call you a wimp for the rest of your life," I teased.

"Alright... alright... a fall from here wouldn't kill me, right?" Cedric asked, still gazing at the ground.

"Just get over here!" I barked.

He was being such a baby. Of course, normally I would be terrified to do something stupid like this. Perhaps I was just being a little stupidly ballsy. It took a little while for Cedric and me to scoot through the windows and balconies. I had to stretch myself out so that I was doing a practical split, so it was a good thing that I was flexible. Cedric was very lucky that he was as tall as he was. My hands and fingers were getting a little torn up from grabbing at the stones on the house but it would be worth it as soon as I found out the truth.

It took about five minutes for me to get all the way to the unlocked window at the back of the house. I could have done it in about two minutes but I had to stay slow because of Cedric. He spent the entire time trying to grab onto me to ensure that he knew where to move next. He might have been the slightly better athlete, but he was clearly not used to doing stupid things like this. Which was a good thing because I didn't think that I could deal with two of me. But it all came with being Harry Potter's best friend.

Eventually, the two of us finally made it to the window in the back of the house. I tested it gently and found myself more than a little relieved to see that it was unlocked. I would have been pissed if I came all the way up here for nothing. I nudged the window open and glanced inside. There was no sign that anyone was in the house and there didn't seem to be anything out of place. So I threw myself over the sill and through the window. As I stumbled against the floor I grabbed onto Cedric's outstretched arm and pulled him inside. He hit the floor a lot harder than I had.

"You okay?" I asked, kneeling over him.

Cedric chuckled softly and sat up. "A little more of a crash landing than I would have liked, but I'm okay. Are you?"

"I'm good."

The two of us slowly pushed ourselves back to our feet. I glanced around the room, standing awkwardly near the window. "What now, genius?" Cedric asked teasingly.

"Look for something out of place," I answered.

"This house is ancient. That could be anything."

"Okay... Maybe not out of place. Go and see if you can find any sign that someone was here."

"Alright."

Slowly the two of us wandered through the house. The room that we were in looked like some type of sitting room. But I imagined that there were a number of those in the old place. We dashed through the upstairs for a while but I found nothing and neither did Cedric. No evidence that Voldemort or Wormtail had ever been here. I would have checked downstairs but I remembered that Frank Bryce had come upstairs when he'd overheard the voices. After nearly ten minutes I was still convinced that nothing was out of place.

"In that dream of yours, where were they?" Cedric asked.

"They were.... they were... in some big chairs," I said dumbly.

Try saying something a little stupider, Tara. "The room that they were in. What did it look like?" Cedric clarified.

"Looked like it might have been a study or something like that," I said.

"Come on," Cedric goaded.

The two of us darted back into the hallway together. Cedric pulled us back down a different section of the home from the one that we had been in before. We wandered down past a few rooms before turning a corner that brought us back towards the main staircase in the center of the house. We passed each room slowly, glancing in, but there was nothing that looked like the room from my dream. Finally, Cedric spotted a room with the door slightly open. I hadn't been in it yet. Cedric reached his hand out, seemingly thinking the same thing that I was, and moved to push it open.

"Seriously?" I interrupted, reaching out to stop him. "You're going to go first?"

"Yes..." Cedric said hesitantly.

He was nervous. "Are you finally starting to believe me?"

"Hey now, I always believed you."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," I whispered.

Cedric smiled, keeping me behind him. "It's alright. Come on."

The two of us stood for a moment as Cedric grabbed my hand gently. A moment later Cedric pushed the door open a little more and slipped into the study. It was quiet on his end for a few moments before his head popped back out and he gave me the all clear. I let out a breath that I hadn't realized that I was holding as I slipped into the study. My heart was beating rapidly as I entered. On my first look of the old study, it seemed that there was nothing wrong with the place. It looked totally normal, much like the rest of the house.

The more that I looked around the study, the more that I realized that the room looked eerily familiar. It could have been because the room was just like every other study in a mansion that I had ever seen before. But it seemed so much different than the ones that I had seen before. There was something ominous about the room that I was in. I didn't remember much from the dream that I had had last night, but the room looked almost identical from what I could remember. Not that it looked very spectacular in the first place.

"Look like the place from your dream?" Cedric asked, standing at the dresser.

"I don't have a great memory from it, but from what I can tell it looks pretty much the same," I explained.

Cedric chuckled under his breath as he walked over to my side. "Well... if nothing else, at least we can be somewhere that I'm not terrified that your parents might walk in," he teased.

I snorted under my breath. "Look first, flirt later."

"Hang on."

As much as I would have loved to find out what the hell was going on here, I had to admit that it was nice to hang out with Cedric somewhere that I wasn't terrified that my parents might end up finding us. So I grinned as Cedric walked over towards me and wrapped his arm down around my waist. I giggled into his mouth as he pressed a small kiss against my lips. He gently stepped the two of us back into one of the cabinets behind us. The two of us remained locked together for a long time as I kissed him back until my eyes gently fluttered open and I spotted something very strange.

"Hey, look at that," I said against Cedric's mouth.

"What?" he asked, pulling away from me.

"The lamp."

"What about it?"

"The leftover oil," I said.

Sitting at the bottom of the oil-burning lamp was some leftover oil. It looked like someone had recently lit it and hadn't cleaned it out after they had used it. "That could have been from Frank Bryce when he came up here to check on the noise. He could have turned it on and gone snooping around. Died of a heart attack before he could put it out. Or maybe he saw something that spooked him and he took off," Cedric suggested.

But that wasn't right. I knew that it wasn't right. "No way. When I saw the nightmare, Voldemort murdered him when he had just stepped into the room. He would have been over there. No chance to actually turn on the light," I explained.

"Maybe he did just vanish, Tara. There's no body that they found. No evidence of foul play."

"How do you explain the leftover oil?"

Cedric was silent for a few moments. "I don't know. We broke into the house easily enough. I'm sure that other kids have too. It's a nice and somewhat creepy old place. It seems like teenagers would come in here all the time. It could have been one of them."

"Uh-uh. Look at this. This oil is fresh. A day, at the oldest."

"That doesn't prove that it was You-Know-Who."

"Of course not. I just..." I mumbled, trailing off.

He had to have been here. I just knew that he was here. It terrified me to the very core of my being but I knew that he had been here. "I believe you, Tara. I don't want to believe you, but I do," Cedric said, pressing his hands against my arms comfortingly. "All I'm saying is that it's worth looking at the other options. Maybe Frank Bryce just had it with living in Little Hangleton."

"Why? What would drive him out of a place like this?" I asked.

The town seemed to be a little boring but very quaint. A nice place to have a quiet life. "Maybe we should go ask the local historian. See what they know," Cedric suggested.

"It's just... my dream seemed so lifelike. Everything seemed like it really happened here. And... who else would have lit that oil?" I asked.

Something was wrong here. "The police," Cedric said.

"Why would they not use the lights? They're Muggles," I explained.

There was no way. Muggles would have used the lights. A wizard had lit the lamp. No way that kids knew how. "So you're convinced that it's You-Know-Who who used the oil lamp because he's not used to using electricity? He would use the oil lamp," Cedric reasoned.

"Come on!" I snapped, annoyed that he wasn't agreeing with me.

Although he had every right to doubt me. "It's a little far-fetched, Tara," Cedric said gently.

"It always seems like everything I think is far-fetched. But there's one thing. I'm always right!" I hissed.

Cedric put his hands up in a practically defensive position. I tried to calm myself down slightly. "Okay. I'm not saying you're wrong. Let's go and investigate," he offered.

At least he didn't just say that I was crazy and leave me to handle this by myself. He always came with me and listened when I had some batshit insane thing that I had to deal with. The two of us turned towards the door and headed to leave the room. At least we would be able to head downstairs and check what was going on down there. It would be much easier to also head out from the front door rather than the second-floor window. But just as we exited the study I heard the lock engage downstairs. We both jerked backward as someone entered the house.

We had to get out. Now. "Window! Window!" I hissed quietly.

The two of us dashed over. Cedric was about to push open the window before he stopped. "Wait!" he gasped, grabbing the back of my shirt.

"What?" I asked desperately.

It sounded like the Muggle police. We had to get out of here before they caught and arrested us. "There are police down there. If we try and sneak out, they're sure to see us," Cedric pointed out.

"Shit."

As I began panicking, desperate for a way out, Cedric stepped back and ran a hand over his face. "So this is what a day in the life of Tara Nox feels like..." he chuckled.

"You get used to it. Trust me."

"Got any brilliant plans now?"

"Umm..."

"Thought that I might have heard something upstairs," the voice of one of the police offers drifted from downstairs.

"Go and check it out," a second voice called.

"Okay," the first responded.

"They're coming," Cedric sang.

"I'm aware!" I barked.

Telling me that they were on their way wasn't exactly going to help me. I needed a plan and something that I could do incredibly fast. Something that didn't take any preparation. I was sent into a panic for a moment, trying to figure out what the best thing was to do. How could we actually manage this without getting caught and arrested? There wouldn't be many choices. Although I did know one way that I assumed that we could get into trouble without actually getting arrested. Act like we were just lovesick teenagers trying to escape their parents.

It seemed that it was always a trope being used in some Muggle movie. Hopefully, they knew what they were talking about. Because I was about to put it to the test. I grabbed Cedric by the shoulders suddenly and shoved him backward. He grunted as I pressed him back against the dresser in the far corner of the room and began to tug at the clothes that he was wearing. Make it look as real as possible... He seemed stunned at my actions but kissed me back anyways as his hands worked at the buttons on the middle of the long sleeved shirt that I was wearing.

The buttons were just about to slip off, letting the long-sleeved shirt fall from my frame when someone cleared their throat from behind us. I wasn't sure whether or not I was happy about being stopped. Either way, the two of us gently pulled away from each other. There were two police officers standing in the doorway, staring at the two of us. Cedric and I both blushed softly as we rearranged the clothes that we had started pulling off of each other. The officers looked in between fed up and laughing at the state of our dishevelment.

"Alright, kids. You're not as creative as you might think. Not the first couple that we've seen up here," the first officer said.

"Oh," I grunted awkwardly.

Cedric ran his hands through his hair. "We're sorry, Officer."

"How many times do we have to tell you, kids? Find someplace new to go," the first officer snapped.

They must have dealt with these kids a lot. "Your parents home?" the second officer asked, slightly nicer.

"Well -"

"Yes," I interrupted Cedric, knowing that we had to make it sound like we were just trying to get away from our parents. "Sorry about that. We were just..."

I trailed off, unwilling to say what I was lying about. "Relax. We aren't going to report you if you leave now," the first officer said. Was one of my plans finally actually working? "And promise us that you won't come back."

"We promise," Cedric and I said together.

"We catch you up here again and we will call your parents," the second officer warned.

"We understand," Cedric said.

"Get dressed and head out," the first officer said.

That was when I realized that when my shirt was unbuttoned and I had buttoned it back, it hadn't been corrected. It had been done with me missing a few of the buttons. Cedric and I exchanged a look and laughed awkwardly. Partially because we were acting for the cameras and partially because we were really embarrassed by what had just happened. The two of us rearranged our clothes and flattened out our hair. Once we were done the two officers escorted us downstairs. We were standing at the front door and about to leave their sight when Cedric spoke again.

"Thank you for understanding."

The two officers glanced at each other and laughed. "Ah. We were all kids. Take care, you two," the first officer said. We thanked him softly before stepping out onto the front walkway. "And take it slow!"

There was still a slight laugh in his voice. I couldn't believe that he had said something like that. Of course, he also thought that I was about to do... that... with Cedric. No way. We weren't nearly there yet. My face was burning desperately as the two of us headed down the road and into town together. We said nothing the entire time that we walked, even though I could tell that Cedric wanted to talk to me. But right now I couldn't even look Cedric in the eyes. I felt like a complete moron for what I had done. At least I had gotten us out of trouble.

Looking at Cedric only made me feel even more awkward. I knew that I had to think about something else. So my mind eventually drifted off to the knowledge that someone had indeed been in the house. I was sure of it. It was obvious from the leftover oil in the oil lamp. But there was one thing that didn't make sense. We had found no body. That was kind of the biggest problem. Was there a chance that Frank Bryce had really just run off? Could I have just been having nightmares only somewhat linked to reality? The entire thing made no sense.

My head was spinning and I was getting a headache. I had to think of something else. "Good acting back there," I finally told Cedric.

Why the hell did you say anything? Cedric glanced over at me and grinned. "Was that acting that we were doing? You're a better actress than I would have given you credit for," Cedric teased. But it was mortifying. I glanced up at him in surprise and felt my cheeks burning. He laughed softly. "I'm just teasing you."

"Don't do that!" I barked.

It was so damned awkward. "It was quick thinking. It really was. How'd you know to do that?" Cedric asked.

"Saw it in an old television show," I answered.

"So they are useful for something," Cedric said.

One of these days I was going to get him to enjoy Muggle television. We both laughed as I laid a hand on his shoulder. "Hey. You weren't a half-bad actor back there either," I said.

"Who said that I was acting?" Cedric asked.

He really needed to stop doing that. My face burned with embarrassment again. Those stupid damn teenage hormones were flaring up again. "Do you really think that Frank Bryce could have just run off?" I asked, trying to distract myself.

"Where would the body have gone?" Cedric pointed out.

They wouldn't have just left it laying around. They would have had to do something anyway. "They wouldn't want to draw suspicion to the house if they were hiding in it. If the locals thought that Frank had just run away there would only be a day or two of exploring the house. If they thought that he had died, it would have been a whole investigation. They wouldn't have been able to stay here," I explained.

"Could they have buried the body?" Cedric suggested.

It just seemed... wrong. Would Voldemort have even thought of that? Would he have cared? "Muggle police aren't that dumb. They'd be able to find the grave," I reasoned.

"How do you vanish a body?" Cedric asked.

"You don't," I answered.

As far as I was concerned, there was no way to vanish a body. I was sure that there must have been a way to do it but I was only fourteen. There was no way that I was going to find out. I would need some major help with that one. Perhaps someone else would know. If there was a chance that I wouldn't tip off one of my parents, maybe I would ask one of them. In the meantime, Cedric and I stood together, staring back at the house. The question remained mostly unanswered about Frank Bryce. Now I was stumped on what came next.

"Where next?" I asked Cedric.

He grabbed my hand and started pulling me back towards town. "Let's try that local historian's house. See what we can find out about our friend Frank Bryce," Cedric offered.

Before we could get too far, I grabbed his hand and pulled him back. "Wait a second." Cedric turned back and stared at me. "Thanks for helping me with this. I know that my life can get a little... overwhelming," I said dumbly.

Cedric grinned. "You think that I didn't know that when I asked you out? I know what your life is like. It's fascinating." We both laughed. "But I didn't ask you out with thought to your connection to You-Know-Who or your ability to attract trouble literally wherever you go - which is a gift in itself, honestly," he said. We both laughed again. It was a gift that very few people had. "I asked you out because I like you. You're funny, strong, smart, brave, and so loyal. And you're not half-bad looking."

At his last comment, I laughed again. "Thanks. I think I needed to hear you say that."

"I know."

"How about tomorrow we go on a normal date?" I offered. Cedric arched an eyebrow in surprise. "I can take you to the Muggle movies. I think you'll like it."

"Just a normal date? Sounds boring," he teased.

"I'll make it worth your while," I sang.

Cedric laughed all over again as my face burned brilliantly. One of these days I would learn to stop saying stupid things like that. I had really meant something like buying him popcorn or candy. The way he had taken it wasn't the way that I had meant it. Well... in a way, I had. I groaned softly as I dropped my head back. As I got a little bit older, navigating the relationship that I had with Cedric was becoming more difficult. Knowing what I could and couldn't do or say was getting tricky. For just a moment I wished that I could ask my mother about it. But that would mean spilling my secret.

"You know, that's - that's not what I -" I stuttered awkwardly.

None of my excuses were working very well. I stopped speaking as Cedric started laughing again "I look forward to it," he teased. As we walked I stumbled dumbly over the cobblestone streets. I was trying to think of another excuse when Cedric said, "In the meantime, I think we're here."

How did he manage to do things like that and never seem even slightly embarrassed? Had he done something like that before? No. That was a bad time to start thinking about that. My face was still on fire as the two of us headed up the steps to the historian's house. I didn't know what we were going to find here, but I hoped that it would be something. The two of us linked hands as we walked into what looked like the living room with Cedric still grinning at the stupefied look on my face. Just a moment later an older woman stepped out from the kitchen.

"Hello," the woman greeted sweetly.

"Hi," we both said.

We both smiled somewhat awkwardly. "It's nice to meet you," Cedric said.

The woman gave a small smile. "It's nice to meet the two of you as well. Always good to see some friendly faces. I've been busier today than I have in the past ten years. Must be all of the hubbubs in town. My name is Helen,"

"Tara."

"Cedric. Good to meet you."

He was as sweet as always. Helen gave us both the tiniest of smiles as she brought us over towards the dining room table. There were books and maps laid out all over it. "I assume that you'd like to know about the house?" Helen asked. We both nodded. "Had a lot of visitors asking about it today. Most people are too young to really remember the history behind it."

"Yes. Yes, please. What can you tell us about that house? The one that the Mu - man was just murdered in," I stammered awkwardly.

Helen's eyes widened. "Murder?" she asked loudly. I nodded dumbly. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say... "My dear, what would give you that idea? Old Frank Bryce just decided to run off. No signs of struggle, no breaking, and entering. Just an unfortunate set of circumstances, I fear. He was old and under a great deal of stress anyways. Who could be surprised?"

"A gardener under stress?" I asked, echoing what I had asked the older woman at the Riddle House.

"About the house, ma'am, if you don't mind," Cedric interrupted.

He was giving me a warning look as if to ask me to stop saying stupid things that might offend the Muggles. But it wasn't my fault that they never thought beyond the end of their noses. Helen motioned Cedric and I a little further into the house as we stood around the table. There were a few birth certificates laid out along with some photographs of the Riddle House in what appeared to be its heyday. Helen turned the lights on before pushing a picture towards us. It appeared to be the Riddle House a few decades ago, absolutely beautiful and magnificent.

"Well... we still call it 'the Riddle House,' even though it's been many years since the Riddle family lived there," Helen began. "As you can see, it stands on a hill overlooking the village, some of its windows boarded, tiles missing from its roof, and ivy spreading unchecked over its face. Once a fine-looking manor, and easily the largest and grandest building for miles around, the Riddle House has long since been damp, derelict, and unoccupied.

"Half a century ago, something strange and horrible happened there, something the older inhabitants of the village still like to discuss when topics for gossip are scarce. The story's been picked over so many times, embroidered in so many places, that nobody's quite sure what the truth is anymore. Every version of the tale, however, starts in the same place: Fifty years ago, at daybreak on a fine summer’s morning, when the Riddle House had still been well kept and impressive, a maid entered the drawing room to find all three Riddles dead," Helen explained.

That was enough to catch my attention. Someone had been murdered in the house? Why didn't that seem right to me? I had thought that this might have just been Voldemort's home. Of course, that didn't make sense. He had told Harry and I down in the Chamber of Secrets that he had been an orphan. So how would he have ever had this house? But still... who were those three Riddles? Fifty years ago... Would Tom Riddle have been a young man? But he hadn't been murdered... My head was throbbing with the onset of a stress headache.

"Three?" I asked Helen awkwardly.

"Yes, dear."

"Who?" I asked.

"The Riddle family, of course," Helen said suspiciously, clearly surprised that I didn't know who they were. "Tom and his parents, Thomas and Mary."

Okay, now I was definitely confused. Cedric and I exchanged another look. Clearly, neither one of us were completely sure of what that meant. I thought on it for a second, glad that Helen was giving us a little while to process the information. Tom Riddle had never been murdered. Harry was the one that had drained his power. The timing didn't work out either. Fifty years ago, Tom Riddle would have been in his teens. Right? But then I remembered something that Riddle had told us down in the Chamber of Secrets. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever?

"The maid had run screaming down the hill into the village and roused as many people as she could. 'Lying there with their eyes wide open! Cold as ice! Still in their dinner things!' she screamed," Helen continued.

"The police were summoned, and the whole of Little Hangleton seethed with shocked curiosity and ill-disguised excitement. Nobody wasted their breath pretending to feel very sad about the Riddles, for they had been most unpopular. They had been rich, snobbish, and rude, and their grown-up son, Tom, had been if anything, worse." I could definitely see Voldemort being that way. He had gotten it from his father. "All the villagers cared about was the identity of their murderer - for plainly, three apparently healthy people did not all drop dead of natural causes on the same night.

"The Hanged Man, the village pub, did a roaring trade that night; the whole village seemed to have turned out to discuss the murders. They were rewarded for leaving their firesides when the Riddles' cook arrived dramatically in their midst and announced to the suddenly silent pub that a man called Frank Bryce had just been arrested.

"Frank Bryce was the Riddles' gardener. He lived alone in a rundown cottage on the grounds of the Riddle House. Frank had come back from the war with a very stiff leg and a great dislike of crowds and loud noises and had been working for the Riddles ever since. Many thought that he was odd. Wasn't very friendly, you see. And he was one of the few people with complete access to the Riddle House.

"All night they talked about the many shortcomings that Frank had. By the following morning, hardly anyone in Little Hangleton doubted that Frank Bryce had killed the Riddles. But over in Great Hangleton, Frank was stubbornly repeating, again and again, that he was innocent, and that the only person he had seen near the house on the day of the Riddles' deaths had been a teenage boy, a stranger, dark-haired and pale. Nobody else in the village had seen any such boy, and the police were quite sure that Frank had invented him," Helen explained.

That was enough to make me snap to attention. Not that I hadn't been paying much attention before. But I realized something now. Voldemort hated his father. What if he had murdered him? And his own grandparents... Maybe. But there was something else that I was thinking of. She had said that there was a dark-haired and pale teenager. Just like Harry. Just like the boy that we had met down in the Chamber of Secrets. Was there a chance that Voldemort could have killed his father and grandparents as a teenager? Twisted, but possible.

"Then, just when things were looking very serious for Frank, the report on the Riddles' bodies came back and changed everything," Helen continued.

"Yes?" Cedric asked, very interested now.

"The police had never read an odder report. A team of doctors had examined the bodies and had concluded that none of the Riddles had been poisoned, stabbed, shot, strangled, suffocated, or (as far as they could tell) harmed at all. In fact, the Riddles all appeared to be in perfect health - apart from the fact that they were all dead. The doctors did note that each of the Riddles had a look of terror upon his or her face - but as the frustrated police said, whoever heard of three people being frightened to death?

"As there was no proof that the Riddles had been murdered at all, the police were forced to let Frank go. Which frustrated them greatly, I should add. The Riddles were buried in the Little Hangleton churchyard, and their graves remained objects of curiosity for a while. To everyone's surprise, and amid a cloud of suspicion, Frank Bryce returned to his cottage on the grounds of the Riddle House.

"But Frank did not just pack up his things and leave. He stayed to tend the garden for the next family who lived in the Riddle House, and then the next - for neither family stayed long. Perhaps it was partly because of Frank that the new owners said there was a nasty feeling about the place, which, in the absence of inhabitants, started to fall into disrepair.

"The wealthy man who owns the Riddle House now has neither lived there nor put it to any use for the past few decades; he says that he keeps it for tax reasons. Since owning it, he has continued to pay Frank to do the gardening, however. Just around this time, Frank was nearing his seventy-seventh birthday, very deaf, his bad leg stiffer than ever, but could be seen pottering around the flower beds in fine weather, even though the weeds were starting to creep up on him, try as he might suppress them. The house simply needed occupants.

"Weeds were not the only things Frank had to contend with. Boys from the village made a habit of throwing stones through the windows of the Riddle House. They rode their bicycles over the lawns Frank worked so hard to keep smooth. Once or twice, they broke into the old house for a dare. They knew that old Frank’s devotion to the house and grounds amounted almost to an obsession, and it amused them to see him limping across the garden, brandishing his stick and yelling croakily at them. Frank, for his part, believed the boys tormented him because they, like their parents and grandparents, thought him a murderer," Helen finished.

It sounded like it could have been completely normal. Maybe a man who was just sick of having teenagers ruining his hard work after he had been obviously wrongly accused of murder. The Muggles would have never known that Voldemort - the greatest Dark Wizard of all time - had really been the one to murder him. If I didn't know about Voldemort, I would have thought that he had just up and vanished too. But it couldn't have been that. I was so damn positive that Voldemort had done something to Frank Bryce. I just wasn't sure what it was.

"And no one ever found proof of that teenage boy?" Cedric finally asked.

"Frank could have easily just mistaken him. Likely just a local boy," Helen explained.

What was the next step? I supposed trying to get the exact timeline, which meant seeing the headstones. "Could you point us towards the churchyard where the Riddle's are buried?" I asked as innocently as possible.

Helen looked at me curiously. "History buff, are you?"

"Writing a paper," I said.

Helen nodded and turned back towards the main road that we had come up. "Just a ways up the road, as a matter of fact," she said.

"Thanks," I said.

Cedric and I shook Helen's hand and thanked her for her time before heading out back onto the street. We turned towards the churchyard and headed off together. "What do you think?" Cedric asked me.

If only I knew what the hell I was thinking... Unfortunately, I didn't. Right now it was just guessing and trying to put together the pieces. "Voldemort told us something in the Chamber of Secrets. He said 'You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever?'" I explained. Cedric nodded confusedly. "His birth name is Tom Riddle."

The realization dawned in Cedric's eyes. "So the Riddles who were murdered would be his father and grandparents?" he asked.

"Seems so."

"I know You-Know-Who was completely evil, but do you really think that he would murder his own family?"

"Yeah, I do. He hated his father."

We were talking about a man who had attempted to murder an infant. "Why?" Cedric asked.

"Just because he was a Muggle?" I offered. "I don't know."

"What do you think the graveyard will tell us?"

"Maybe the dates that they were born and died so I can verify the timeline on his family. I'm not sure. But I have a... gut feeling that it's going to tell me something," I said as reasonably as possible.

"Okay."

As the two of us wandered down the road towards the eerie graveyard, I started poking at Cedric's shoulders. "You can wait here if you're scared," I teased.

Cedric rolled his eyes and shoved me. "Hah-hah. Aren't you the one that's easily scared?"

"I think we've had three years to prove that I'm not easily scared," I reasoned.

It was the truth. Heading into the dungeons to battle Voldemort, almost getting slaughtered by a Basilisk, and facing down a criminal madman. I certainly didn't scare easily. Cedric laughed as he darted after me to try and grab at my sides to startle me. I jumped slightly at his touch and merely ended up laughing as I tried to run away from him. He latched onto my waist and grabbed me, throwing me around while keeping a grip on me. I merely laughed madly as he spun me around. He threw me back in front of himself and was about to kiss me when a cough came from behind us.

"Alright, you two," the first police officer from the Riddle House called from behind us. I gasped and jumped around to face him. "We warned you to head back home."

"We - We were just..." I stuttered awkwardly.

How the hell was I supposed to say this one? The police already thought that we were trying to head off somewhere to hook up with each other. "Heading over into the graveyard?" the second officer asked. Damn. "That's an interesting place for a rendezvous. A supposedly haunted house and a graveyard. Go home. Both of you, before we do call your parents."

"No! No!" I gasped. Get a damned excuse going! "I have family resting there."

"Oh, yeah? Who?" the first officer asked.

"The Riddles," I spit out suddenly.

The two officers glanced at each other and shook their heads. "Riddles had no family, sweetheart," the first officer said. That's what you think. "Go home. Now."

"We're not asking again," the second officer said.

"But -"

"Tara, come on," Cedric interrupted me.

"Don't come back, you hear?"

"But -

"Tara. Come on. Time to go," Cedric warned.

"Listen to him," the second officer said.

There was just that one thing that I wanted to do. Oh, well. I could find another way into the graveyard. Where there was a will, there was a way. "Alright..." I mumbled, trying to look dejected. Cedric grabbed my hand as the two of us turned and walked off together away from the officers, who were clearly watching us to ensure that we didn't pull something else. "Think there's a way to sneak around the back?"

Cedric's head snapped around to look at me. "Are you kidding?"

"You give up so easily," I scoffed.

"Now I see how you and your friends find out these things. You just never quit," Cedric laughed.

That was definitely how we figured everything out. "Pretty much," I said honestly.

Cedric rolled his eyes and grabbed my hand. "Come on. It's getting late and we've found out a lot today." I opened my mouth to argue when he spoke over me. "You know that we have. You should tell Professor Dumbledore. He might be able to give you more insight than the Muggles could. In the meantime, we saw no real proof that You-Know-Who was ever here," Cedric explained.

He was right. There was nothing that I could go on past that one little bit of leftover oil we had seen. That wasn't nearly enough to prove that he had ever been here. "That's what I wanted to go to the graveyard for," I mumbled.

"Leave it to the adults. For my sanity, please," Cedric begged.

"Okay. Ready to go?" I asked sadly.

Perhaps we had figured some things out today. But we hadn't figured out enough. "Probably should. It's getting close to dinner," Cedric said.

"Maybe I can come back at some point."

"Do you honestly think that's a good idea?"

"I think that I want to know about Frank Bryce and what happened to him," I said.

Even if it was a bad idea, I needed to know what had happened to Voldemort and Frank Bryce here in Little Hangleton. I had a feeling that there was something terrible coming and it was all tied here. As we walked off and back into the town, we wound in and out of all of the people heading back to the bookstore. We walked into the store - which was thankfully abandoned - and headed towards the fireplace in the back of the store. I could see the owner of the store getting ready to head and see if we needed any help.

"Distract her for a second," I told Cedric.

He wandered a few shelves down and cleared his throat. "Excuse me, miss!" The woman turned and headed back towards his voice as Cedric darted over to me at the fireplace. "Run!"

We darted into the fireplace as I pulled out some Floo powder, getting ready to throw it down into the fireplace. "Hurry up!" I hissed. A second later Cedric toppled into the fireplace with me and I threw down the ashes. "Flourish and Blotts!"

The green flames shot up around us just seconds before the woman came to check on us. She'd been confused for a few minutes, but it was better than us getting caught. We were sucked through the grates for a little while and into the tunnel of the Floo network before getting spit out into the fireplace of Flourish and Blotts. Some of the customers smiled and moved off to the sides so that we could move into the store. Out of breath from the stressful trip back, Cedric and I took a few deep breaths as we moved off towards the alley.

As we headed back towards the Leaky Cauldron, something new dawned on me. It was a little gross and morbid to think about but it could have been right. "Are snakes carnivorous?" I asked Cedric suddenly.

Cedric's head snapped over. "Are you joking?" he asked slowly.

"No."

"You're a Parselmouth!"

"So? I don't actually like snakes!"

Cedric grinned at my momentary stupidly. "Yes, Tara. I'm pretty sure that snakes are carnivorous. They eat rats and rodents like that for the most part," Cedric explained. It made sense. It could have made sense, at least. "Why?"

It was a really repulsive thing to be thinking about, but it could have been the reason that there was no body. "What if the reason that Frank Bryce's body wasn't found was because someone, or something, ate him?" I asked. Cedric stared at me like I had lost my mind. "There was a giant snake in my dream! Voldemort called it Nagini. What if Nagini ate the remains of Frank Bryce?"

Cedric was silent for a little while, pushing the hair back off of his forehead. "That's really stretching, Tara."

"I know it is," I admitted. "But -"

"You're desperate for an answer," Cedric interrupted, not unkindly. Of course, I was, but that didn't mean that I was wrong. "I understand. But this isn't something that you're going to find out on your own. I can only help you so much. If you want any real answers, I think you're going to have to go to someone a little more powerful than either one of us."

I groaned and dropped my head into his shoulder. "Why do you have to be so reasonable?" I growled.

"One of us has to be," Cedric teased.

I smiled at him. "Thanks for sticking with me today."

"You're welcome. Thanks for not doing anything too insane. And a big thank you for what you did in the Riddle House," he teased.

My face started burning stupidly all over again. "Stop!" I hissed. He really had to quit doing that. I laughed softly as I decided to mess back with him. "Actually... you're going to have to remind me of what that was."

Cedric grinned. "Oh, with pleasure."

Every now and again I knew enough to just stop blushing and mess with him. So I laughed softly - as did Cedric - as he gently pushed me back against the wood paneling of the Leaky Cauldron. We were standing just outside of the building, just outside the main alley. He pressed me back as he leaned down and gave me a lingering kiss. His hands came up to wind into my windblown hair as mine reached around his waist to rest in his back pockets. I could feel him grinning against my mouth. Even I was the slightest bit surprised at my actions. It was a little bolder than normal.

Eventually, Cedric reached down and gripped almost painfully at my hips. But I didn't really mind. His hands came around to rest against the skin just underneath my shirt. I laughed softly against his mouth, causing some of the passerby to begin laughing at the two of us. But I didn't really care what they all thought. It was safer out here than it was in my house where my parents could see the two of us anyways. I didn't have to worry. Of course, no sooner had I thought that when there was the slightest cough behind us.

For a moment I thought that we might have been blocking someone's way. But it was something much, much, worse. "Hello, Tara," Mom said, her lips pulled into a tight line.

"Cedric," Dad said, looking like he was about to murder both of us.

"Oh my god," I breathed, horrified.

Mom and Dad exchanged a look, very tense and dangerous. "I didn't think it had been that long since we'd seen Hermione. She looks quite a bit different, don't you agree?" Dad asked Mom tersely.

"Let me explain -" I started.

"What a wonderful idea," Mom growled.

My heart was pounding in my chest as I tried to think of anything to say. An excuse, an apology, or even just explaining the entire truth. But I couldn't think of what I was supposed to say. What the hell could I say right now that wouldn't make my parents want to kill me? Actually, there probably wasn't anything that I could say. But I could at least try something. More than just sitting here staring at them like a mute. But I couldn't force the words out of my throat. They were all getting tangled together and trapped on my tongue.

"Please, Mr. and Mrs. Nox, it's not Tara's fault," Cedric started. "I wanted to -"

"He's lying," I interrupted. I didn't want him to have to take the fall for something that I had asked him to do. "Trying to make himself look like the bad guy. It was me."

Both Mom and Dad scoffed at my pathetic explanation. "I don't think either one of you looks very good right now. I don't even know which one of you to believe, since you're both clearly very talented liars," Dad hissed angrily.

"Dad -"

"Don't talk right now," Mom interrupted harshly. "We're going home. Come on."

"But -"

"Now!" Mom shouted.

I jumped slightly but set my mouth into a thin line. "Hang on a second, I know that I -"

"Get over here," Dad growled.

How was this even remotely fair? "Hear me out!" I yelled.

"Absolutely not! We're going home. Now," Dad snarled.

"Go on, I'll write you," Cedric said.

He placed a hand on the bottom of my back and gently pushed me forward. But I didn't want to go yet. I needed to try and explain. "No, Cedric. I don't think that's a very good idea. I think you two need to be spending some time apart," Mom said, as nicely as I could imagine that she was capable of right now. "Since you've clearly already spent a lot of time together. Who knows how much? Certainly not us."

There was the nastier side of her personality. "Hey, that's not -"

"We're leaving. Now," Dad interrupted me again.

"No! Let me explain, at least," I tried.

Two minutes. That was all that I needed. "I would love for you to do that. At home!" Mom yelled.

Her voice cracked slightly. "Get the hell over here," Dad growled.

It was one of the rare times that he cursed at me. "Please, Mr. and Mrs. Nox -" Cedric started.

But Mom held up her hand to get Cedric to stop talking. "Despite everything, I do appreciate you trying to take the fall for what's happened here," Mom told Cedric. I sighed softly. Why couldn't they just give the two of us a chance to explain things? "I'm absolutely positive that this was Tara's idea. Not wanting to tell us because she thought that we wouldn't approve."

"Look at how right I was..." I muttered, knowing that it wouldn't make things better.

And I was right. "Because you said nothing! Because we had to walk in on the two of you," Mom snapped. I really shouldn't have said that. It was the wrong time for me to try and have the attitude that I normally did. "Now is not the right time for all of us to talk. That'll come later. In the meantime, Cedric, please go home."

"Alright. I'm truly very sorry," Cedric said quietly.

"We know. Head home," Mom said softly.

Unlike normally, Mom and Dad didn't move to give Cedric a hug or handshake. They merely let him walk off. "Have a good evening. All of you. Again, I'm so sorry about this," Cedric said gently.

"Sorry, Cedric," I mumbled.

He was almost an adult and being treated like a little kid. "It's okay," Cedric said, smiling politely.

For a moment it looked like he might have moved forward to kiss me or even hug me. But he didn't and that was probably the right choice for the moment. Cedric gave us all a polite wave before turning to walk off. I knew that it was time for me to deal with my parents. Cedric and I would come later. I turned back to stare at my parents. They looked absolutely furious with me. Not that I was any less upset with them. To my surprise, Dad grabbed me around the arm and began dragging me towards the fireplace in the tavern. I grunted as I stumbled over myself.

"Hang on a damn minute," I hissed irritably.

We could get back home without them practically throwing me in the fireplace. "Watch your mouth," Dad warned.

"Get in. Now," Mom snapped, motioning towards the fireplace. I walked in, wishing that I hadn't been stupid enough to kiss Cedric right out in the open. Mom grabbed some Floo powder and threw it down around us. "Number Five, Privet Drive."

As much as I wanted to throw myself out of the fireplace to run away from them, I knew that it would have been the wrong choice. So I watched as the flames whooshed up around us and we were thrown back to our house. I noticed that there were waffles already set out for dinner. The slightest guilt-wracked through me. It didn't take me more than a few seconds to know that we wouldn't be eating those tonight. I planned on heading upstairs to bed when my parents headed me off, instead motioning me over to the couch for a conversation.

It could have been hours that passed while the three of us just sat there in silence. Sometimes we would look down at the ground and other times we would all stare at each other. No one opened their mouth for a while because no one knew what to say. My father looked absolutely beside himself with anger over my actions. I had always known that he would be the angriest. My mother also looked quite upset with me but just the slightest bit more level-headed than he was. Eventually, Dad looked up, obviously trying to hold his anger in.

"How long?" Dad asked, his voice shaking. "Try and be honest, as difficult as that may be."

We didn't really have an exact date. Not since we had gone on little dates before anyone else had known about the two of us. "Since... I don't know. Around my last birthday?" I offered.

That was when we'd shared our first kiss with each other, at least. "Ten months?" Dad growled. I nodded awkwardly. "Ten months and you just now say something? Not even, the two of us had to find the two of you... When you should have been out with Hermione! Were you with him all day?"

"Yeah."

There was no point in lying now. "And in the past few weeks? When you went out with friends, how many times was it him?" Dad asked.

"A lot."

Dad hopped off of the couch, pressing his head into his hands. "Oh my..."

"You said to be honest!" I yelped.

"The two of you have been in this house together! With neither one of us home!" Mom gasped.

Did they really think that I was that horrible of a person? I was only fourteen! That was going to take some time for the two of us to get there. "Merlin! How terrible do you honestly think that I am?" I asked sharply.

For some reason, their insinuation that I would do that genuinely offended me. "How clueless can you be?" Mom scoffed.

"You know Cedric! You know he's a nice guy!"

"Evidently we don't," Dad said.

Apparently, I was going to have to say it. "We've never done... that!" I shouted.

"Oh, well that's a relief!" Dad hissed.

A lump formed in my throat the same way that it always did when I was about to cry. I tried to sniffle back the tears. "You really honestly don't trust me?" I asked. They exchanged a disbelieving look. Perhaps that wasn't the best thing to say. Of course, they didn't trust me. "Look, I know that I shouldn't have lied. I only did that because I was afraid of the way that the two of you would react. And it looks like my fears were justified. I was trying to find a way to ease myself into the conversation."

Again the two of them stared at each other. Mom eventually turned back to me with a little frown. "Here I thought that you were mature for your age," Mom said. I raised a brow in question. "But it's that attitude right there. This was easier for you. You should have told us the truth from the beginning, no matter how you thought that we would react. That's called being an adult, Tara. We could have had a real conversation about it. Now we get to yell at each other because no one got eased into it."

A childish anger shot through me. So I began yelling something that I knew would make things no better. "What's the big deal? So what? We're dating. Everyone dates!" I snapped.

"Since you were at the beginning of your Third Year? Not that early!" Dad yelled back.

"Oh, that's a damn lie!"

"Language!" Mom gasped.

Turned out that lying ran in the family. "I know that it is! I talked to Sirius and Remus about what the two of you were like in school. Everyone knew that the two of you had liked each other since your First Year. They told me that the two of you started casually dating in Third Year, the same time that I did. And I'm older than most of the kids in my year! I was fourteen! How does that seem fair?" I yelled.

They were very clearly just as big of liars as I was. "Casually dating, Tara. Going out on trips to Hogsmeade. Not swallowing each other's tongues in Diagon Alley when you should have been out with your best friend," Dad said harshly.

That seemed to set even Mom off. "Marcus -"

"That is not what I was doing," I interrupted.

"Could have fooled me!" Dad yelled back.

One stupid mistake was easily going to end up ruining the rest of my summer. "Would you stop? Okay, I'm sorry! I should have never kept it from you! I should have said something the moment that it happened but I was afraid. It was my mistake," I admitted.

"It was a massive mistake. Do you know how little trust we have in you right now?" Dad shot back.

"Because I didn't tell you that I was dating Cedric?" I asked. "Isn't that a little -?"

"You two are not going to be together. Not over the summer," Mom interrupted.

It felt like she had just whacked me over the head with a hammer. "Excuse me?" I asked stupidly.

Mom let out a soft breath, clearly trying to keep us all from shouting at each other, which was definitely the next step. "Tara... We both like Cedric. He's a good boy. At least, we thought that he was. But he's too old for you and you know that," Mom said, echoing the thoughts that I had once had about the two of us. "He's two years older than you and likely at a different point in his life."

"Shouldn't this be my choice to make? Let me just enjoy being with him while the two of us are in the castle together and -" I cut myself off. That was when I realized what they were really upset about. Not just the age gap or the fact that he was leaving Hogwarts soon. They were concerned about what he would want physically. "You didn't mean just the age gap."

"No. We don't," Dad said blankly.

They really thought that I was going to do something like that or that Cedric would force it. He was so much better than they thought that he was. "Look, you walked in on a kiss. That's it. That's all that's happened. That's all that's going to happen," I said firmly.

"We shouldn't have even had to walk in on that! And it looked like a little bit more than a kiss," Dad barked.

We were out in public, damn it. It hadn't been that serious. "Looks can be deceiving. Why am I getting yelled at? The two of you were dating when you were my age! Did you tell your parents?" I asked sharply.

Just like I had expected, the two of them exchanged a tense look with each other. I knew that they hadn't told my grandparents about their dating experience when they were my age. "No, and now that we're older, we realize that it was a mistake," Mom said. I scoffed. Hypocritical. "But neither one of us were that serious with our significant others when we were your age, as you and Cedric clearly are."

"Were," Dad corrected.

"Don't you see the hypocrisy in this?" I asked rudely.

"Don't you dare get an attitude right now," Mom snapped.

"Okay, you know what, I've had it with this," I huffed.

It was definitely the wrong choice of words, but I didn't care. It would be better to talk later, once we had all calmed down. I stood from the couch and turned towards the stairs. "Get back here," Dad growled.

An irrational and stupid anger shot through me. "It's late, I'm tired, I'm going to bed! If you'd like to shout at me and call me a horrible child a little longer, I'm sure that it can wait until tomorrow," I snapped.

"Tara!" Dad shouted.

But I wasn't coming back. Not right now. I turned and headed to the stairs as Mom kept Dad from getting up and coming after me. "Let her go. Let's just everyone calm down. We can have a discussion in the morning," she told him quietly.

We were not going to have a conversation about this. Not right now. Not for a long while. Perhaps once they realized that I wasn't being that awful. Proving their point that I was being childish, I went stomping up the stairs anyways, completely infuriated by my parents. They had done the exact same things that I had, if not even worse things. They were just like me, yet I was still getting in trouble for it. As I entered my room, I went to throw myself onto the bed when I saw that Harry was hanging out of his window, obviously waiting for me.

I walked over to the window and pushed it open, seating myself on the edge of the windowsill. "Hi," I greeted quietly.

"What's going on over there? We could hear you yelling over here. Did they find out about Little Hangleton? Did you go?" Harry asked, all in one breath.

"They found out all right," I mumbled.

"About Little Hangleton?"

"Nope. Ran into Cedric on my way."

That was all that I needed to say. Harry's face fell. "Oh, no. Tara..." Harry started sadly.

"Yeah. They're definitely not happy with me."

"That's what all that shouting was, then?"

"All of us yelling at each other."

"Tara, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry. It was my own fault."

Unfortunately, it really had been my fault. I was an idiot about the entire thing. I should have said something a long time ago about the two of us. I should have just gotten over my fear of what they were going to do to me and told them the truth. And I knew that I was being a child about the entire thing and proving their point that I wasn't mature. But I couldn't stop. I was so furious that they had done the same thing that I had when they were kids and now they were lecturing me about it. I really liked Cedric. I wanted to be with him. Why couldn't they understand that?

"What happened?" Harry asked after a long silence.

"We were in Diagon Alley. We had just come back from Little Hangleton. We were on our way to The Leaky Cauldron to use the fireplace for us to head back home and we stopped for a kiss that got a little heated. They walked right into it. Couldn't exactly explain my way out of that one," I explained.

"Were they willing to listen?" Harry asked.

"No. They mostly shouted at me. They're angry that I lied," I said.

"You knew that they would be," Harry pointed out.

That didn't change the fact that waiting this long had only made things worse. "Not this angry. I thought that they'd at least listen. Of course, I also thought that it would come out in a conversation. Not when they were watching us all over each other in the middle of Diagon Alley," I said, ignoring Harry's slight twitch.

He would never like the two of us together. But at least he didn't yell at me for it. "Maybe it's better this way. At least it's out in the open," Harry said.

"Feels like they're never going to trust me again."

"They will, Tara. It'll take some time but eventually, they'll realize that you're just a kid. And kids make stupid choices sometimes."

"Thanks. I can't believe that I was that stupid," I huffed at myself.

Harry shook his head. "Careless is probably a better word. You're not an idiot, Tara," Harry said. I smiled weakly. He was right about that much. "I love you. Your parents love you, believe it or not. We all care about you."

"Thanks," I said.

"How'd Cedric handle it?" Harry asked.

At some point, I would have to get back in touch with him and apologize. I wished that I had a phone to call him with. "Surprisingly well. He tried to take the blame but my parents are smart enough to know that I was the one who wanted to feed the lie. They ordered him to leave me alone and not talk to me for a while, which feels really stupid. He's my boyfriend and we've been together for months and now my parents are getting involved and ordering me not to talk to him. Like a little kid," I complained.

Harry looked a little bit happy to know that Cedric had tried to take the blame. "Knowing Diggory, he'll get over it. He'll be patient and wait for you to be able to talk to him," Harry reasoned.

Only for so long before someone else - Cho Chang - found out and stepped in. "He's almost seventeen. Think he's gonna get tired of having a girlfriend whose parents still treat her like she's five?" I asked sadly.

"I think he cares about you too much," Harry said.

"Guess I needed to hear that right now," I said gratefully.

"I know. Just relax, Tara. Give it some time. Remember, we'll be back to Hogwarts soon," Harry said.

At least the two of us would be able to be together freely at Hogwarts. "If my parents don't decide that I'm not trustworthy enough to send me somewhere that they can't keep an eye on me," I half-joked.

Harry laughed. But I was being reasonably honest. I wouldn't be surprised at all if my parents tried to get me homeschooled for the next two years while Cedric was still in school. At least, Dad would try and do that. The whole thing was going to be a huge problem. I wasn't sure whether or not I could trust my parents to not start telling all of the professors at Hogwarts to keep the two of us away from each other. I sighed and laid back against the window, watching the clouds move over the moon, Harry watching my expression closely.

"Whose owl is that?" Harry said suddenly.

My gaze turned into the distance. It was a barn owl heading straight towards me. "I don't know," I said quietly. The owl landed in front of me and dropped a letter, climbing into the room and heading over to Dai's cage. He glared but allowed the new owl to take some water. I opened the letter and glanced down at it. "It's from Cedric."

"You should answer that," Harry said, withdrawing into his room slightly. "I'll see you in the morning. Come over if you need to talk. Or even if you just need to get out of the house for a little while."

"Thanks, Harry. Goodnight," I called.

"Night, Tara. Try to remember that your parents love you," Harry said.

Perhaps in a little while, once we were all calmer. "Yeah, I know," I mumbled.

One day I might thank them for what they were doing right now. But I was a kid and I was allowed to be a little bit pissed off right now. The two of us waved at each other as we both withdrew into our respective rooms to head back to bed. I closed the blinds behind me and settled down on the edge of my bed. I checked to make sure that my parents were asleep - quickly pressing my ear to their wall and not getting any noise - before locking the door and opening up the letter fully. It looked like it had been written very quickly and in a slightly panicked hand.

Tara,

I probably shouldn't be sending you this letter. I'm hoping that by using one of the owls from the post office, your parents won't notice. Here's hoping I sent him late enough so that they would be in bed. At least, that's what I'm hoping happens. The last thing that I want is for you to get in even more trouble. But I wanted to send you this letter.

I'm really sorry about what happened out in Diagon Alley today. I should have been paying attention. We've been so careful up until today, so I guess it made sense that today was the day that we got caught.

How are things back at home? How angry are your parents? Think they'll ever like me again?

Don't worry about them ever liking you again. They love you a lot. We both knew that they wouldn't be happy when they found out and I suppose that finding out like this made it even worse. But the shock will wear off in time. Right now everyone's going to be mad at each other for a while. But they'll eventually realize that, while you made a mistake, you've recognized that and never meant to hurt them. Just look for the silver lining. At least telling them is out of the way.

I'll try to keep it short. We'll see each other again soon enough. In a few days, we'll both be at the Quidditch World Cup. It might be a little awkward at first, but hopefully, your parents will see that I really care for you. And we'll be back at Hogwarts soon enough. Perhaps by next summer they'll be used to the idea.

Keep smiling. Worse things have happened.

See you at the World Cup,  
Cedric.

For the first time since getting caught earlier today, I found myself smiling slightly. Mostly because he sounded more embarrassed than upset about what had happened. Plus I really liked that he was apparently still thinking that the two of us would be together a year from now. It seemed like it was going to be so far from now. But it was just the slightest bit relieving to know that he wasn't planning on ending our relationship any time soon. Not even after my insane parents interrupted us. I reached over to bring out a blank piece of parchment and I began to scrawl on it.

Cedric,

Thanks for the letter. My parents are, needless to say, furious with me. The two of us, I guess, but mostly me. I'll try to keep this letter short. It's been a long day and I'll see you soon enough for the Quidditch World Cup. If they even trust me enough to go, that is. We'll see. I'm sure as hell not staying away from it. I haven't seen a World Cup game in years. I'm not missing this one just because they're a little mad at me.

I can't believe that we finally got caught. I really thought that we were being careful. I guess that's my lesson to never kiss you anywhere public. Thanks for sending the letter. Sorry if I got you in trouble or if you felt awkward. They're never like that. They'll like you again eventually, trust me. You're pretty tough not to like. Once they realize that I'm not two and they can't treat me that way forever, they'll get over it. For now, I guess the best thing to do is for the two of us to stay away from each other. In front of them, anyway.

As you said, I think it's just the shock that's upsetting them right now. Eventually, they'll realize that it really isn't that bad. It just might take a little while. For now, I'll just try and avoid them. It'll be better than shouting at each other as we all are right now. You're right, they know now, at least. But it definitely wasn't the way that I wanted them to find out. It would have been better for me to just get it out of the way and tell them. I know that now. Damn you, I know that now and you were the one that suggested to me in the first place that I tell them. You were right. Jackass.

That's true, the Quidditch World Cup is coming up and I'll definitely see you there. No way in hell that my parents are going to keep me from going. Maybe we can slip away for a little while, huh? I know, I know. I'm a bad influence. But so are you! See you in a few days.

Are you joking, by the way? I'll be thirty and they'll never be able to understand that I'm going to date.

There's always something to smile about, right?

Love always,  
Tara.

I folded the letter up before handing it off to the barn owl. It took it with the smallest hoot. "Bring this back to Cedric, yeah?" I asked the little owl quietly.

The owl let out another soft hoot before heading over to the window. I opened it just long enough to let the owl head out. Once it had gone I closed the window and let out a soft breath, dropping back onto the bed. My parents were definitely going to hate me forever for what I had done. Maybe not hate me, but definitely not be happy with me for a while. Honestly, right now, I really didn't care. I just liked being with Cedric. Maybe one day they would forgive me. I knew that it was a dangerous move, but I wasn't planning on stopping seeing him anytime soon.


	3. The Invitation

When my alarm went off the next morning I ignored it at least three times, much the way that I did at Hogwarts, but rarely the way that I did at home. Usually I couldn't wait to get up and start my day. But not today. When my alarm went off the fourth time I finally managed to drag myself out of bed. But I didn't immediately get changed. Instead I paced around my room, trying to take as long as possible to get ready before having to go downstairs and face my family. I'd stay up here all day if it was possible, counting down the hours until I could head off with the Weasley's.

Knowing that I needed to stretch out the time that I spent in my room for as long as possible, I spent a long time getting changed into my clothes for the day. I ended up in a pair of jeans and shirt before changing my mind and showering. Twice. My hair was likely stripped of every single oil before I finally pushed myself out after the second. Plus, I really didn't need to get yelled at for wasting water and driving up the bill. So, I climbed out and dried my hair about ten minutes longer than I really had to. I brushed my hair over and over again before changing my outfit three times.

After much deliberating I settled on a simple tank top and shorts considering the warm weather. I glanced over at the clock and rolled my eyes when I saw that it was only ten o'clock. Nowhere near late enough to head downstairs. I was hoping to make it to lunch without having to leave. I was debating on washing my face again and give some makeup a try when an owl landed outside of my window. My heart skipped a beat when I thought that it was Cedric but I realized quickly that it was foolish. He wouldn't risk a letter when we were going to see each other in a few days.

Pushing the window open, I allowed the large owl to hop in Dai's cage to take some water. "Thank you," I told the owl.

Dai definitely didn't look happy to have the intruder in his cage, but I merely gave him a little glare to leave the smaller owl alone. Dai had certainly adopted some of his attitude issues from Hale. I took the envelope and walked over to my desk, sitting in the swirling chair and opening a drawer. Just in case it was from Cedric and I had to tuck it away quickly. I grabbed my letter opener and slit the piece of parchment open, revealing a letter written in Hermione's neat script. I smiled slightly. It would help to have a girl's perspective on my newest issue. I glanced down at the letter and read:

Tara,

I'll be heading to the Weasley's soon in preparation for the Quidditch World Cup. I'm bringing the rest of my school things with me so that I don't have to head back home afterwards. I'm just trying to figure out, what should I bring with me to the Quidditch World Cup? Is there anything that I should read beforehand to get some background?

Who's going to be playing this year? Ron says that it doesn't matter, I won't understand it anyways. But I do understand it most of the time and I'm sure that the entire event will be fascinating.

Anything interesting happening with you?

See you in a few days for the Cup,

Hermione.

For the first time since Cedric and I had been caught, I couldn't help but to smile. It was so much like Hermione. As much as I loved my roommate and best friend, she was always going to be one of the biggest nerds that I had ever met. She was always going to be the person who loved exams, studying on Friday nights, and prefer the company of a good book over people. But that was one of the things that I loved about her. The fact that she wasn't a normal person. I reached over and grabbed a spare piece of parchment and a pen, writing out my answer.

Hermione,

Sweet! As long as my parents aren't going to try and hold me captive (more on that later) I should be heading to the Weasley's soon. I think they're coming to get us tomorrow. I'm just going to go with Harry. Hopefully I'll be able to stay at the Burrow for the rest of the summer. My parents and I aren't getting along too well right now. Anything you want you can buy there. Be warned, it'll be overpriced. Bring normal clothes, something green, please! Mostly to bother Ron. As for background reading, might just want to read up on the rules of the sport. They'll be in full play here.

It's Ireland vs. Bulgaria. We're rooting for Ireland. Ron will be rooting for Bulgaria because of Viktor Krum - their Seeker. He loves him. I'm sure you'll understand it and you always have me to explain if not.

Anything interesting happening to me... Hermione, I was an idiot. Cedric and I were out in Diagon Alley messing around for the day. Of course, I lied and said that I was with you. My parents were in the damned alley! They saw the two of us kissing, naturally when the kiss was just the slightest bit heated. So, that happened. Needless to say, they weren't thrilled with that. I'm in a ton of trouble. It happened last night. One day I'll talk to them but for now I'm avoiding them. Any advice on what I should do now? Tell me when we're together.

No way that I'm not going to the World Cup. It's been too long since I've seen one. They'll probably be a lot more protective of me than they normally are, which is going to be extraordinarily annoying.

By the way, if you tell me that you told me so, I'm going to lose it. Keep that bit to yourself, yeah?

See you tomorrow,

Tara.

If Hermione for a second even dared to tell me that she told me so, I was going to flip out on her. Especially since I knew that she was right. She was one of the people who had wanted me to tell my parents about Cedric. She was the one who had warned me that the longer that I risked dragging it out, the more likely that I was risking getting caught. I was going to punch her if she tried to attack me. I was really going to kill Ron if he said anything. I knew that he was the one who would throw it back in my face.

At least I wouldn't have to deal with that until tomorrow. And maybe they would see just how upset I was. That was one way to keep them quiet and not teasing me about getting caught. I put away my pen and extra paper and folded up my letter along with Hermione's old one. I slipped it into one of my envelopes before handing the papers to the owl who had brought Hermione's letter. I would have given it to Dai but he had just been on a few long journeys to the Weasley's. He needed some time to rest before heading back there again.

Opening the cage, I let the new owl out. He bounced in front of me. "Know where Hermione is?" I asked him quietly.

The owl chirped happily and I handed him the letter. It would likely get to Hermione just before we showed up. Hopefully she didn't say anything to Ron or the twins. I really didn't want to have to listen to them tease me about getting treated like a three-year-old by my parents. The owl hopped over to the window as I opened it, letting him take flight off to the Burrow. I seated myself on my bed again, opening my journal from Cedric to start writing about what I wished that I was doing when the flew open.

Dad was standing in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest. I slammed the journal shut and tossed it into the bedside table. "Thanks for knocking," I huffed.

His face set itself into a thin line. "I'll knock when you've earned the right to privacy," Dad snarled. I rolled my eyes, ignoring the little glare that he was giving me. Apparently, the battle was already beginning for the day. "Roll your eyes all you like. I went to Hogwarts too. I'm used to all of the teenage girls ignoring their well-meaning parents."

"What do you want?" I asked rudely.

Had he really come in here just to snap at me? "Watch your tone," Dad warned sharply. I stared at him blankly. "Where did you send that owl?"

Of course, he'd seen that I had just sent off the owl and automatically thought that it was to Cedric. Good thing that he hadn't seen me last night. "To Hermione. I can't call it back so you're going to have to believe me," I snapped.

Dad glared at me. "What did you tell her?" he asked.

Suppressing the urge to tell him to leave me the hell alone, I said, "Nothing of importance. Talked a little bit about the Quidditch World Cup. Told her who was playing." Dad nodded at me but he still looked rather disbelieving. "Talked about how unreasonable my parents were being."

"That's what being a parent's about. Making your kid think that you're being unreasonable," Dad said.

"That's a good way to parent," I mumbled.

It was loud enough that Dad could have heard me. He likely did, because I saw his eyes narrow into little slits. But he decided to let that comment go. We had bigger fights to handle, after all. "Come downstairs," Dad said.

"No, thanks. I'm going to stay up here for a little while," I said.

"It wasn't a question, Tara. Come downstairs," Dad ordered.

As much as I would have loved to stay here forever, I knew that it wasn't worth the fight. "Alright," I muttered.

Perhaps I would get lucky and only have to have breakfast downstairs. That was what I really wanted before having to head back to my room to wait out the rest of the night and tomorrow. For a moment I lingered and cleaned up my desk, mostly to annoy Dad. I could see that he was tapping his foot against the ground, waiting for me to follow him out. But I really didn't want to. I was trying to do just little things to aggravate them. Just the way that they were doing to me. It was childish but I didn't care. They were being childish too.

Once I had finally put all of my things together I turned to head downstairs with Dad. But before I could get to the door, he stopped and grabbed something off of my chair. I raised a brow as he tossed it towards me. I caught it grouchily and unfolded what appeared to be an older sweater. Clearly meant for me to wear it over my semi-revealing tank top. I rolled my eyes as I pulled it on over myself. As I straightened out the baggy material I realized that it was Mom's since it was much larger than I was. It was also quite thick for such a warm afternoon.

"You know that it's the middle of the summer?" I hissed as we stormed down the stairs.

"We're not in Florida anymore. You can handle a sweater. Plus, we're inside," Dad said.

"Exactly. We're home by ourselves," I pointed out.

We were home all alone. What was the point of having me dress like a nun today? "You're already on thin ice. Watch what you say," Dad warned.

The urge to bite out another scathing reply came to the tip of my tongue but I just barely managed to swallow it. Dad was right about one thing. I was on thin ice. I didn't need to say anything nasty to get myself into even more trouble. The two of us walked down into the living room together where Mom was already having her morning tea. I rolled my eyes all over again. I just couldn't help it. They were being so annoying. I had never seen my parents quite the way that they were right now with the entire Cedric situation.

It was all driving me out of my mind. They had never cared that much about me doing whatever I wanted before. Of course, they had never known me with any boys before. Not anything outside of my friends. The only thing that I had seen was Mom glare at Fred one time, which I didn't quite understand. But it was this attitude that was really driving me out of my mind. I knew without a doubt that there was no way that I could tolerate them for another two weeks until I went back to Hogwarts. Not the way that they were being right now.

We all sat together for a few minutes in silence before Mom finally rose from her spot on the couch and grabbed breakfast for everyone. It was just a few eggs. Nothing like the waffles that they had made yesterday when they had still liked me. I ended up pushing my food around my plate for a long time and not eating anything. I really didn't want any food right now. Not in this awkward silence where chewing sounded like screaming. I would have much rather been with my friends. Or maybe Cedric. Especially since that would make my parents furious.

"We're not just going to sit here and ignore each other all day," Mom finally said sharply.

They both looked at me but I remained silent. "Tara?" Dad prompted.

"What? I don't have anything to say," I mumbled.

"That's not the Tara that I know," Dad tried to tease.

But I was not having it. We had to have a serious conversation about this, not just awkwardly skirting around the big problem. "I don't get why I'm in so much trouble. You two have always said such positive things about Cedric whenever he came over for dinner. You've never had anything bad to say about him. Mom, one time you even knew that I had a crush on him! You said that I should tell him how I felt," I snarled.

Dad shot Mom a look that told me that he hadn't known that she had ever told me that. I pushed back a grin. If the two of them were arguing with each other, there was a good chance that they would leave me alone. But everything that I had said was the truth. I would have understood them being upset with me. They had every right. But they shouldn't have been this upset. They had always loved Cedric. They had always said what a wonderful boy he was. Mom even knew about my crush and had told me to go for it. I had and it had worked and now they hated us being together.

"When you were older, Tara. Or for the two of you to take things slowly," Mom said.

That was a miserable excuse. "We are," I said.

"Apparently not," Dad scoffed.

We each sent a heated glare at each other. We were taking things plenty slow. We might have spent a few nights together in the Astronomy Tower, but those were innocent, save a few kisses. We were normal teenagers who were dating and we would remain that way until we were both ready for the next step - whenever that day might come. And, honestly, that was my business, not theirs. As I turned to look back at Mom I realized something else. I realized just why Mom had offered me the advice to tell Cedric the way that I felt about him.

"Be honest. You didn't want him to have feelings for me, did you?" I asked slowly.

To my surprise, Mom at least had the decency to look a little bit embarrassed. "If we're being honest, I didn't think that he would. You're much younger than he is," she pointed out.

"Two years," I huffed.

We were just a touch over two years apart. It wasn't that big of a deal. "Most boys that have a two-year difference between himself and a girl at his age would look at her like a little sister. Someone to be protected. Not someone that he wants to be with," Mom explained.

"So... every time that I have a boyfriend who I might have started out as friends with, you're always going to hate them afterwards?" I growled.

"Not when you're older," Mom said.

My eyes rolled so far back into their head that I was sure that they would get stuck there. "Right. Come on, you had to know that this day was coming," I attempted.

The two of them exchanged a little look with each other. Mom let out a soft breath before getting up and seating herself in front of me. "We knew that the day was coming. But we had hoped that you would feel comfortable enough to tell us face-to-face so that we could have a calm discussion about what came next," she said as nicely as possible.

"Nothing!" I shouted suddenly. They both jumped as I lowered my voice. "It's my relationship. It's between the two of us. No one else."

"Not when you're only fourteen," Dad said.

Once again, I rolled my eyes. "What do you honestly think that the two of us have been doing?" I asked.

"Why don't you tell us?" Mom asked.

I didn't miss the way that Dad flinched. "He clearly doesn't want to know," I muttered, motioning to him.

Mom shook her head. "No, but it's important that this gets out in the open."

My jaws ground together. They really thought that the two of us had actually done stuff like that. Stuff that I still wasn't even comfortable thinking about. "Nothing that the two of you were thinking. We've kissed, obviously. That's about it," I said. I thought about stopping there before deciding that I might as well get everything out in the open. Just in case it somehow came out later. "We've snuck away to the Astronomy Tower a few times at night and spent some time together. But, come on, Harry's seen me in less than Cedric has."

Their jaws had ground together about the Astronomy Tower comment. They must have absolutely despised the fact that the two of us were together. It almost made me feel terrible for saying it. Maybe I should have stayed quiet. But I figured that I had to say something before it accidentally came out - as I had already leaned tended to happen. Although I was careful about not saying anything to indicate the fact that the two of us had spent the entire night there together. That was one thing that I could keep to myself. Either way, they seemed more concerned with the Harry comment.

"That doesn't make me feel better," Dad groaned.

The thought of Harry and I potentially being together sent a sick feeling through my stomach. That was repulsive. "I meant a bathing suit. And you know Harry! You let me sneak into his house in the middle of the night," I pointed out.

"I seem to remember you wanting to adopt Harry as your brother when the two of you were younger," Dad added.

"Double standard," I huffed.

Maybe it wasn't quite a double standard, but it was annoying. They knew that Harry was my best friend with no romantic connection, so it didn't bother them. But they were beside themselves about Cedric. "It's not a double standard. It's being honest, Tara. You and Harry - as well as Ron - are best friends. There's not much to be concerned about there," Mom pointed out. I scoffed again. "You and Cedric are clearly something a lot more. There's some concern that it could grow into something more before you're ready."

"Before I'm ready or before you're ready?" I asked, before thinking better of it.

"Attitude," Dad snapped.

"It's not an attitude," I said.

"Yes, it is," Mom put in.

Maybe it was, but they had asked for it. They were being such pains. I sat in silence with them for a few minutes as we all stared down at our feet. None of us had anything to say to each other that wasn't going to start a fight. We were actually being modestly nice to each other and I was hoping to manage to keep it that way for a while longer. Out of the corner of my eyes I noticed both of my parents exchanging a little look with each other and I glared at them. Automatically I knew that they were trying to think of a way to deliver what was sure to be bad news.

Finally, Dad seemed to conclude that he was going to have to speak first. "We need to talk about what's happening over the next few days," he said slowly.

"We're going to the Quidditch World Cup," I said plainly.

"Yes, but it's not going to go quite the way that it was before," Dad said.

My heart felt like it had dropped out of my stomach. I didn't have to be a Seer to know that they were planning on keeping me with them rather than allowing me to go with the Weasley's. "What are you talking about?" I asked slowly.

"You'll be coming with us," Dad said plainly.

Now my heart was definitely on the floor. The last thing that I wanted to do was go with them. They had been preparing the arena for months now and were barely even around. Half of the reason that I was going with the Weasley's was because they would at least be around and celebrating. Not making sure everything was going according to plan. Plus, everyone was going to be with them! I was supposed to spend a fair amount of time with my parents and be with them - and everyone else during the game - but otherwise with the Weasley's. I'd be mostly alone if I went with them!

"No! I was supposed to go with the Weasley's and Harry! Everyone else is going to be there!" I shouted. I was even supposed to be in their tent. I'd be the biggest loser if I was the only person staying somewhere other than the Weasley's tent. "I'll be all by myself."

Mom might be around for a lot of the match, but Dad would barely be asking an appearance. "You're not going to be alone. You're going to be with us and you can still see your friends at the match," Mom pointed out.

No way. There was no way that I was going with them. This was my chance to have some last-minute summer fun with my friends. "What will it take to get you to let me go with the Weasley's?" I asked.

The two of them exchanged a little look. "Trust. Which we don't have right now," Dad explained.

"You're going to ruin the World Cup for me. It's not fair," I whined.

"Come up with an alternate plan, then," Mom offered.

That was better than nothing. I would just have to take it and run with it. More than anything I wanted to bite out for them to leave me alone and let me do what I was originally planning to do, but I knew that I would have to tread lightly here. Anything to keep them from forcing me to stay home from the World Cup. The only thing that I could think to do - that would make all of us happy - was to come to some sort of happy medium. Getting them to allow me to go and have some freedom without risking them getting pissed and forcing me to stay home from the Cup.

So I took a deep breath and said, "How about what we were originally planning to do? Let me go with the Weasley's and Harry to the World Cup. If we don't go together, I won't get to enjoy the celebrations beforehand and I want to see those. Have Mr. and Mrs. Weasley keep an eye on me. We can send you reports. I'll call or something. Let me stay in their tent. You know that I was going to be with Ginny and Hermione anyways. If you really don't trust me, just remember that Cedric will be with his father. There's no chance for us to be alone together. Thousands of people will be there."

Both Mom and Dad stared at each other for a while as they processed my words. It was a completely fair assessment. I knew that it was. The question was whether or not they would agree to it. They wouldn't go back on the promise that they had made me weeks ago to allow me to go to the early celebrations with everyone else. They knew that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would watch over me and that I would be staying with Hermione and Ginny. Just the girls. And I couldn’t help but to point out that it wasn't quite a good time for us to have alone time.

Finally, Dad seemed to settle on his decision. "Letting you do that would be like giving you a reward for bad behavior," he said.

"I'm not a dog," I snapped, before thinking better of it.

"But we are still raising you!" he shouted back. I jumped slightly, fearing that I might have pushed him a little too far. He took in a deep breath and continued. "As we always will be doing. Why should we let you go?"

"Because we've had these plans for months. Because maybe it's a chance for us all to get along again," I said softly.

The two of them stared at each other before Mom gave Dad the slightest nod. He turned back to me and let out a little breath. "One last chance, Tara," Dad said.

"Of you not treating me like a baby..." I added lowly.

"You keep making comments like that and we'll take it back," Dad snapped.

"Okay. Thanks," I said.

They both nodded. "Once we get there, you'll be with us at almost all times. Understood?" Mom asked.

"Really?" I groaned.

"Tara. Don't push," she warned.

"Okay. Fine. Can I still stay with the Weasley's?"

"As long as you check in with us regularly. That means regularly. At least once a day," Dad said.

If that was what I could get, that was what I would take. The one thing that mattered to me was that I could spend it with the Weasley's, Hermione, and Harry. For a while the three of us sat in an awkward silence. I was still very bitter about having to spend so much of the World Cup with my parents, where I clearly wouldn't be allowed to speak to Cedric, but it was better than not being there at all. Not that I really cared. I was still going to manage to slip away at some point and spend most of the time with my friends. And definitely Cedric.

Finally, I could take the silence no longer. I hopped up from my spot on the couch and said, "I'm going to go to Harry's."

"Tara -" Dad warned.

"I want to be there when he gets the letter from Ron! Just to explain things to Vermin," I interrupted loudly. It was just Harry. They never cared when I was over there. And they could see when I was there. "Ron told me that he was sending the letter around today so that Harry would know that they were coming tomorrow. You can watch me walk over to his house if you like."

"Attitude," Mom warned.

Watch your mouth, idiot. You need to be able to go to the World Cup. "Sorry. Can I go?" I asked quietly.

"Be back in an hour," Mom said.

"Okay," I growled.

It felt a little stupid to have a time limit on how long I had before having to be back at home. I had never had a time limit on how long I was able to be over at Harry's unless we had plans to do something else. They hadn't even given me a time limit on when I had to be back home when I had first become friends with Harry after we had moved back to Surrey. I moved to pull of my sweater, only stopping at the glare that my parents gave me. I would be able to pull it off once I got over there. I would just have to remember to put it back on before I came back home.

Saying a quick and somewhat awkward goodbye to my parents, I turned and headed out of the house. It felt much less suffocating out in the open air. I headed over to the Dursley's household quickly, hoping to make the best out of my hour. I knew that things were definitely bad because I would have rather been at the Dursley's house than my own right now. After all, I was going to really have to watch my mouth while I was at home for the next few days. Which definitely wasn't something that I had ever been very good at.

Standing at their front door, I knocked a few times. Almost a full minute passed before the door opened, revealing Dudley's massive form. I forced a smile on my face. "Hey, Tara," Dudley greeted.

"Hi, Dudley. Can I come in?" I asked softly.

"Sure." Dudley stepped to the side and allowed me into the house. We were in the hallway together when he turned to me. "How are you?"

"Been better. How about you?"

"Still on that horrible diet."

From what I could see, the diet wasn't working well so far. I was sure that Dudley had started stealing food to keep from losing weight. "Sorry to hear that. Getting more than a grapefruit today?" I asked.

Dudley shook his head. "No. You okay?"

"Not really."

"What happened?"

Telling Dudley about my boy problems seemed a little odd. At least Harry was used to me complaining. "Uh..." I trailed off awkwardly.

"He's not downstairs yet," Dudley said, sensing what I was looking for.

"Oh," I said dumbly. I debated on telling Dudley the truth for a few moments before deciding that I might as well go for it. Maybe I could use a non-objective opinion. "Well, maybe your father didn't tell you about it, but he saw me kissing a boy at King's Cross at the beginning of the summer. That's my boyfriend. But I never told my parents about him. I just led them on to think that he's my friend. They walked in on us in Diagon Alley - kind of like an outdoor shopping mall - kissing and that was it. They've lost all trust in me and they're furious."

There was a slightly awkward look on Dudley's face. I knew that it wasn't just because the two of us didn't talk that much. We had some chitchat from time to time but we weren't that close. Not the way that Harry and I were. The other problem was that Dudley had once had a rather large crush on me. I was pretty sure that it wasn't quite gone yet. But he never made it that obvious so I never really worried about it. Although now that he knew that I had a boyfriend, he was sure to be a little more awkward around me.

"He's like... like you?" Dudley asked slowly.

None of the Dursley's would ever be comfortable with magic or anything to do with it. "Yeah," I said.

"That's what all of that yelling was about last night?" Dudley asked curiously.

We were that loud that even Dudley had been able to hear us? I shifted slightly awkwardly. "Yeah. They were pretty pissed about having to find out that way," I explained stupidly.

"Things any better today?" Dudley asked.

"Nope."

"Can I give you some advice?"

Now those were a few words that I never thought that I would hear from Dudley Dursley. Some advice that he could give me. It seemed a little silly. Dudley and I barely even got along. We got alone because I had to stay friends with him so that I was allowed inside to hang out with Harry. Was this perhaps a real chance for the two of us to really become friends? The idea almost made me smile. In my own very strange way, I did like Dudley. He wasn't as bad as I always made him out to be. He just had two miserable human beings for parents.

It took me a few seconds too long to realize that I had to say something to him. "Genuine advice from Dudley Dursley. Not something I ever thought that I might want," I joked. Dudley gave a somewhat awkwardly smile. "Yeah, sure. Go for it."

"Have you told them about the way that he makes you feel?" Dudley asked. I stared at Dudley uncomprehendingly. I didn't have the slightest idea what he was talking about. Other than the obvious, of course. But wouldn't that be a little strange? "Don't just yell at them and try to justify that you lied. They already know that. There's no going back on the fact that you lied. Try telling them about why you want to be with him. Tell them how he makes you feel when you're together so they know that it's more than just kissing in secret."

For a moment I merely stared at Dudley. His advice definitely wasn't something that I had been expecting. Dudley rarely gave good advice. He usually merely complained and stared at people until they did what he wanted. It fascinated me to hear him give some actual good advice. He was right. Yelling and trying to justify my actions was useless. I was already in trouble and that was making things worse. Talking to them calmly and rationally was a much better choice. Perhaps they'd be willing to listen if I acted like the mature adult they were hoping that I was.

"That's some really surprisingly good advice there, Dudley," I said. We both laughed softly. "Thanks. I'll think about it."

"You're welcome."

For the first time in a long time, perhaps ever, I was very grateful to have Dudley Dursley around. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw Harry heading downstairs and I smiled at him. "Excuse me, will you?" I told Dudley.

He gave me a gentle smile and stepped to the side. "Yeah."

Perhaps there was a chance that Dudley and I would be able to really be friends after all. Dudley headed down the hall as I allowed him to walk past me. He took a seat with his parents over at the dining room table. Vermin and Horse-Face barely even looked up at me as I walked past. They really didn't like me after all. Definitely not since they had found out that I was like Harry. Honestly, I didn't really mind. I didn't want to talk to them and I didn't want to have to listen to them. They were so dismissive of others that it drove me out of my damn mind. They reminded me of the Malfoy's.

As I brushed past the dining room table - and Dudley's hulking figure - I headed over towards Harry. He looked to be taking as long as possible to come down the stairs. I knew that he was just counting down the days until he could go back to Hogwarts. At this point, so was I. I tried to force a smile on my face as I met him over on the landing. I didn't want him to see just how upset my parents were really making me. That would be for another time. For now, I really did miss talking to him. He must have seen the disappointment on my face as he walked over and wrapped me in a tight hug.

"Morning," Harry said softly.

"Morning," I mumbled.

As we pulled away, Harry brushed the hair back off of my face. I guessed that I really did wear emotion on my face, even though I thought that I didn't. "How are things going for you?" Harry asked.

Clearly, he was trying very hard not to upset me, which I appreciated. "Not well. They threatened to take away the World Cup for a little while but I guess they thought that even that was too much," I told him. Harry's eyes widened. He made a move to speak - probably to offer to talk to my parents for me - so I spoke over him. "It took me a while to talk them down and convince them that I should have been allowed to go earlier with the Weasley's and away from them."

"It's really that bad?" Harry asked.

"Oh, it's worse than bad. They're furious," I said.

They had never been so angry with me. Not that I could remember. Harry gave me a nervous look. He had never seen us really fighting. "But you're coming that first day, right?" Harry asked slowly.

"Yeah. I'm coming," I said. I could see the relief in his eyes. "I need to get away from them for a little while anyways."

Perhaps I'd be able to get Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to negotiate my stay away from my parents. Mrs. Weasley was one of the few people that my parents listened to. "You'll be happy away from everyone else and it'll be fantastic. We're going to have a great time. You'll have Ron and Hermione and the twins," Harry said. I smiled slightly. I missed Fred and George. "Can't wait to see what the three of you cook up."

As long as they weren't planning on setting me on fire, I was sure that it would be fantastic. "Something terrible and dangerous, I'm sure," I said. Harry and I both laughed. "I'm only around here for an hour, just so you know."

His eyebrow raised. "Doing something else?" he asked.

"Probably getting in another power struggle with my parents," I sighed.

Harry looked shocked. "Wow. Your parents are usually so relaxed about everything," he said. I nodded at him. They had always let me do as I pleased. Right up until they had caught me with Cedric. "It's so strange to see them actually getting strict about things like who you're going out with and how much time you're spending out."

My eyes rolled back in my head. "Do yourself a favor, Harry?" I said. He hummed at me. "Don't ever get caught kissing your secret girlfriend."

Harry laughed softly. "I'll work on it." Not that the Dursley's would ever even care of Harry got a girlfriend. Other than maybe trying to embarrass or degrade him in front of her. "Think they're going to get over it?" Harry asked.

Perhaps in about ten years. Although they would likely talk about this for the rest of my life, never letting me live it down. "Not really. I think that they'll eventually calm down but I don't think that they're going to really ever be comfortable with it. Not when he's older than I am and they think that we're doing a lot more than we really are," I explained.

Harry coughed awkwardly. "You're not -"

"I'll kill you," I groaned, glaring at him. Why did no one believe me that we weren't doing that together? "No."

Harry shifted awkwardly and laid a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry about it. They'll be okay."

"I guess. At least we'll be at the World Cup soon enough."

"That's coming up?" Harry asked curiously.

He really needed to listen to me more. "We're leaving tomorrow," I said.

"Since when?"

"Didn't I tell you?"

"I think you've been a little too busy with your boyfriend," Harry teased.

Maybe I hadn't told him what we were planning on doing. I assumed that Ron hadn't written to him yet. Last thing that I had heard, Ron hadn't even gotten the tickets from his father yet. From what my own father had told me, the Ministry workers didn't get tickets until just a few days before the match began. The only reason that we had them so early on was because Dad was one of the main people involved with the organization of the Cup. And he had managed to work in a way to get the Weasley's, Harry, and Hermione in the upper rows. It was the best view.

"Please. I'm just naturally forgetful," I huffed. Harry rolled his eyes. "I forgot to mention that I got a letter from Ron a few days ago. They're coming to get you - and me, in turn - for the World Cup tomorrow." Harry's eyes brightened. He must have been thrilled to get out of here. "We're heading to the Burrow for a day before heading to the World Cup. We'll be at the Cup for a few days."

"I'm so excited," Harry said happily.

"You're going to love it, Harry," I said cheerfully. A moment later I shifted my gaze to look at the Dursley's. They all seemed very focused on their plates, completely ignoring the two of us. Not even to snap at us. "What's up with them?"

"Who knows? They're just trying to ignore me," Harry said.

"Better than harassing you," I pointed out.

Harry grinned. "Look at that. We're finally changing places."

We bother laughed. He was right. His family was now ignoring whatever he wanted to do while mine were on top of my every move. "As much as I really wish that we weren't," I groaned. Harry patted me on the back as I dropped my head onto his shoulder. "Don't worry, my parents will go back to normal soon enough and the Dursley's will be back to ruining your life."

"Something to look forward to," Harry teased. We both laughed softly. "Want breakfast?"

"It'd be good considering I got out of the house before my parents actually got breakfast out. I don't think that we even had it," I explained. My stomach gave a loud growl to prove my story. Harry grinned. "What's for breakfast here?"

"Grapefruit, I'd assume," Harry teased.

"Shocking," I growled.

We both laughed again. I could have really used something more than a grapefruit though. But I didn't want to go back to my house for food. "Can't guarantee that they'll give you any," Harry pointed out.

"You know what? I think that I'm okay with that," I said.

Actually, I really didn't like grapefruit. We both laughed again as we headed down the landing into the living room. By the time Harry and I arrived in the kitchen, the three Dursley's were already seated around the table. None of them looked up as we entered or sat down. They barely even seemed to notice that I was here. Which was fine by me. I didn't want them to talk to me. Vermin's large red face was hidden behind the morning's Daily Mail, and Horse-Face was cutting a grapefruit into quarters, her lips pursed over her horse-like teeth. I definitely wouldn't be getting any.

Horse-Face must have noticed where my gaze was. "We don't have any leftovers," she snapped.

"That's alright," I said dully.

Dudley looked furious and sulky, and somehow seemed to be taking up even more space than usual. That was saying something, as he always took up an entire side of the square table by himself. He gave me a little look and I nodded. He might have annoyed me most of the time, but I really was grateful for the advice that he had given me earlier. Harry pointed me to the seat beside him and I plopped myself down, watching when Horse-Face put a quarter of unsweetened grapefruit onto Dudley's plate.

She added a tremulous, "There you are, Diddy darling."

Dudley glowered at her. It was very hard for me to not laugh at his predicament, especially since he had just maybe helped me out with my Cedric problem. But it was hard. It was so funny, everything that had happened to Dudley since the beginning of the summer. It was particularly comical to see that all of his years of terrible behavior - at home and in school - were finally coming back to bite him in the ass. Dudley's life had taken a most unpleasant turn since he had come home for the summer with his end-of-year report.

Vermin and Horse-Face had managed to find excuses for his bad marks as usual: Horse-Face always insisted that Dudley was a very gifted boy whose teachers didn’t understand him. She had always ignored the fact that Dudley's grades were some of the lowest in his class. I couldn't help but to wonder how they ever thought that Dudley would be able to get into a good college or have a halfway decent career. Even I was planning on doing some Auror training after I graduated from Hogwarts in a few years. Dudley had to get on track.

Meanwhile Vermin maintained that 'he didn't want some swotty little nancy boy for a son anyway.' Which was his own excuse for why he didn't want Dudley to have good grades. Or even somewhat decent grades. I had snuck a look at Dudley's report earlier in the summer. His grades were on par with someone three years behind where he was. Both of his parents also skated over the accusations of bullying in the report - which Harry and I knew were dulled down, if anything. He was horrible to everyone who didn't immediately show him any fear.

"He's a boisterous little boy, but he wouldn't hurt a fly!" Horse-Face had said tearfully.

Harry and I had sprinted to his room to ensure we didn't laugh and get ourselves into trouble. Dudley had been accused of many vicious attacks on his fellow students. At the bottom of the report there were a few well-chosen comments from the school nurse that not even Vermin and Horse-Face could explain away. No matter how much Horse-Face wailed that Dudley was big-boned, and that his poundage was really puppy fat, and that he was a growing boy who needed plenty of food, the fact remained that the school outfitters didn't stock knickerbockers big enough for him anymore.

There had even been a few comments that Dudley had been facing some very serious health issues at a very young age if things didn't change. That was enough t finally garner his parents' attention. The school nurse had seen what Horse-Face's eyes - so sharp when it came to spotting fingerprints on her gleaming walls, and in observing the comings and goings of the neighbors, including my own family - simply refused to see: that far from needing extra nourishment, Dudley had reached roughly the size and weight of a young killer whale.

So - after many tantrums, after arguments that shook Harry's bedroom floor, and many tears from Horse-Face - the new regime had begun. I had hung around for the first few weeks of the diet because it had fascinated me. Dudley had never been on a diet before so I loved seeing his reaction. The diet sheet that had been sent by the Smelting's school nurse had been taped to the fridge, which had been emptied of all Dudley's favorite things - fizzy drinks and cakes, chocolate bars and burgers - and filled instead with fruit and vegetables and the sorts of things that Vermin called 'rabbit food.'

To make Dudley feel better about it all, Horse-Face had insisted that the whole family follow the diet too. That extended to any visitors. The most food that I had eaten at one of their dinners had been a small salad with no dressing. Horse-Face now passed a grapefruit quarter to Harry. She stared at me for a moment before huffing and moving on. I noticed that Harry's grapefruit was a lot smaller than Dudley's. Horse-Face seemed to feel that the best way to keep up Dudley's morale was to make sure that he did, at least, get more to eat than Harry.

But Horse-Face didn't know what was hidden under the loose floorboard upstairs. She had no idea that Harry was not following the diet at all. The moment the two of us had gotten wind of the fact that he was expected to survive the summer on carrot sticks, Harry had sent Hedwig to all of our friends with pleas for help, and they had risen to the occasion magnificently. Hedwig had returned from Hermione's house with a large box stuffed full of sugar-free snacks. Hermione's parents were dentists and very against sugar.

Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had obliged with a sack full of his own homemade rock cakes. Harry and I hadn't dared touch those; we had both had too much experience of Hagrid's cooking. Mrs. Weasley, however, had sent the family owl, Errol, with an enormous fruitcake and assorted meat pies. Poor Errol, who was elderly and feeble, had needed a full five days to recover from the journey. And then on Harry's birthday (which the Dursley's had completely ignored) he had received four superb birthday cakes, one each from Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, and Sirius.

My own parents had brought Harry over and had given him enough food to feed a small city. They were the ones that provided him actual food rather than just snacks and candy. We both knew that he would be sick if he just ate the food that everyone else had been sending him. As of right now, Harry still had two of the birthday cakes left, and so, looking forward to the two of us having a real breakfast when we got back upstairs, he ate his grapefruit without complaint and I sat in a stony silence.

Breakfasts with the Dursley's were never very fun. No one ever spoke because it was a little too awkward. Dudley was furious with the diet and no one wanted to tempt him. Vermin was too absorbed in his work at the drilling company. Horse-Face had her eyes on the neighbors and rarely actually interacted with the rest of the family. Whenever I came over for breakfast I simply sat quietly and waited to head upstairs to have real food with Harry. It was just too bad that my parents hadn't sent me with any food today. Especially since they knew about Dudley's diet and Harry's lack of food.

Harry split his own grapefruit in half and handed me the smaller half. I stared at it for a moment before shaking my head. He needed all of the food that he could get and I really didn't like grapefruit. It was rather gross. Harry took it back and started slowly chewing on it. I could see Dudley eyeing the little bit of grapefruit that Harry had leftover. He must have been starving from the sudden drop in food intake. Vermin laid aside his paper with a deep sniff of disapproval and looked down at his own grapefruit quarter.

"Is this it?" Vermin said grumpily to Horse-Face.

She gave him a severe look, and then nodded pointedly at Dudley, who had already finished his own grapefruit quarter and was eyeing Harry's with a very sour look in his piggy little eyes. In the back of my mind I knew that he shouldn't have changed his diet so fast. He was likely starving to death in an extremely unhealthy manner. It should have been a more gradual change. But I didn't say anything. Mostly because I knew that it would have been ignored by everyone but Dudley. And if he was getting used to the diet, I supposed that was what mattered.

Vermin gave a great sigh, which ruffled his large, bushy mustache, and picked up his spoon. In the meantime, I snuck into the Dursley’s kitchen and grabbed myself a mug of tea that had been leftover. I would have much rather had a cup of coffee, but they weren't fond of the bitter drink. So, I settled on the rather gross tea. I just had to have something. I had been awake much of the night trying to scheme of ways to get my parents to open up to the idea of Cedric and I dating. Clearly that hadn't worked out too well.

The doorbell suddenly rang. We all glanced up curiously. It wasn't too common for their doorbell to ring. Everyone knew that the Dursley's were one of the most unpopular families in the neighborhood. No one liked their uppity attitudes. Vermin gave a few little groans over his interrupted breakfast as he heaved himself out of his chair and set off down the hall. Quick as a flash, while his mother was occupied with the kettle, Dudley stole the rest of Vermin's grapefruit. I snorted under my breath.

"Entertaining breakfast that you're all having," I whispered to Harry.

"See what I've been dealing while you've been with Cedric," Harry whispered back.

"My greatest condolences."

We both snorted as Harry held up his grapefruit. "Want a piece?" he asked.

"No, I'm good. I don't like grapefruit."

"Yeah. I think that I'm with you on that one."

After an entire summer of eating grapefruit, I imagined that he would never want to eat it again in his entire life. The two of us sat together, trying to overhear what was happening at the front door. I didn't know who would be here this early anyways. I could hear talking at the door, and someone laughing, and Vermin answering curtly. Whoever had been there, they definitely weren't someone that he wanted to talk to. Then the front door closed, and the sound of ripping paper came from the hall. A letter?

Horse-Face set the teapot down on the table and looked curiously around to see where Vermin had got to. It sounded to me like someone had delivered a letter or something of the sorts. Apparently, Vermin hadn't liked whatever had come to the house. Either way, Horse-Face didn't have to wait long to find out; after about a minute, he was back. He looked livid. I glanced at Harry, wondering if he knew what Vermin could possibly be so angry about. It didn't look like he had the slightest clue.

"You two," Vermin barked at Harry and me. "In the living room. Now."

We stared at each other confusedly. What the hell had just happened? Neither one of us had done anything that I could think of. I hadn't been the slightest bit weird or magical lately. Bewildered, wondering what on earth either one of us was supposed to have done this time, Harry and I got up and followed Vermin out of the kitchen and into the next room. We both glanced at each other in questioning, but clearly neither one of us understood what the problem was. Vermin closed the door sharply behind all three of us.

"So," Vermin said, marching over to the fireplace and turning to face Harry and I as though he were about to pronounce us under arrest. "So."

Just with one glance at Harry, I could tell that he would have dearly loved to have said, 'So what?' In all honesty, I would have loved to say that too. It would have been pleasing just to see the venomous look on Vermin's face. But I knew that he didn't feel that Vermin's temper should be tested this early in the morning, especially when it was already under severe strain from lack of food. Plus, we needed to make sure that he would be allowed to go to the World Cup. Harry therefore settled for looking politely puzzled.

"Something wrong?" I asked gently.

Vermin shot me a venomous look. For once I really didn't know what we had done. "This just arrived," Vermin snarled. He brandished a piece of purple writing paper at Harry and I. "A letter. About you. It mentions you."

What the hell was he talking about? Who would have been writing a letter about us? Perhaps Hogwarts was writing something, but they wouldn't have sent anything by the normal mailman. Not after what had happened in the weeks leading up to Harry and I's First Year at Hogwarts. It always came by owl these days. As I glanced over at Harry, I could see that his confusion had increased. Who would be writing to Vermin about either one of us? Who did the two of us know who sent letters by the postman?

That was when it dawned on me, who had written the letter. "Oh!" I gasped suddenly. Vermin and Harry turned to me, the former accusingly and the latter confusedly. "Apparently it wasn't clear enough. I would have thought that you could understand what it meant. Should have figured that a Muggle wouldn't even be able to understand a simple sporting event."

"Mind your manners," Vermin hissed.

It wasn't my fault that he was an awful moron. I thought about saying something else, but I knew that silence was my best option right now. We couldn't have any fights when the World Cup was mere days away. As much as it pained me, it was time for me to bite back what was sure to have been a scathing remark. Vermin glared at Harry and I, giving me a slightly longer look than he normally did, as if this entire thing was my fault, then looked down at the letter and began to read aloud:

"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,

"We have never been introduced, but I am sure you have heard a great deal from Harry and Tara about my son Ron.

"As Harry or Tara might have told you, the final of the Quidditch World Cup takes place this Monday night, and my husband, Arthur, has just managed to get prime tickets through his connections at the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

"I do hope you will allow us to take Harry to the match, as this really is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; Britain hasn't hosted the cup for thirty years, and tickets are extremely hard to come by. Tara will already be coming with us and she'll be more than happy to tell you about our family. We would of course be glad to have Harry stay for the remainder of the summer holidays, and to see him safely onto the train back to school.

"It would be best for Harry to send us your answer as quickly as possible in the normal way, because the Muggle postman has never delivered to our house, and I am not sure he even knows where it is. If not, Tara can easily send us an answer.

"Hoping to see Harry soon,

"Yours sincerely,  
"Molly Weasley.

"P.S. I do hope we’ve put enough stamps on."

The last comment in the letter stood out to me. What did it mean that she hoped that she had put enough stamps on? I would think that with Mr. Weasley at the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley and the rest of the kids would understand simple Muggle things. Of course, most of the time Mr. Weasley only half understood the things that he was working with. He seemed to usually think too much about the things that he was working with. Vermin finished reading, put his hand back into his breast pocket, and drew out something else.

"Look at this," he growled.

He held up the envelope in which Mrs. Weasley's letter had come, and Harry and I both had to fight down a laugh. I should have known that she would mess up sending a Muggle letter in the most endearing way possible. It was cute. She really didn't understand little things that Muggles did in their everyday life. Every bit of the envelope was covered in stamps except for a square inch on the front, into which Mrs. Weasley had squeezed the Dursley's address in minute writing. It was adorable. I thought that it was cute but Vermin was clearly furious.

"She did put enough stamps on, then," Harry said.

Obviously, he was trying to sound as though Mrs. Weasley's was a mistake anyone could make. But it definitely wasn't. The mistake was one that only a witch or wizard would make. There was no way that a normal person would do that unless it was a joke. I really should have made sure that Fred and George had told her how to send a letter. Vermin's eyes flashed in aggravation at his nephew. I couldn't help it. I snorted in amusement. Harry stepped on my foot, trying to keep me from making things any worse.

"The postman noticed," Vermin said through gritted teeth. Uh-oh... "Very interested to know where this letter came from, he was. That's why he rang the doorbell. Seemed to think it was funny."

Harry and I weren't stupid. We didn't say anything. Other people might not understand why Vermin was making a fuss about too many stamps, but Harry had lived with the Dursley's too long - and I had been their neighbor for too many years - not to know how touchy they were about anything even slightly out of the ordinary. Particularly magic, which they seemed to hate more than anything in the world. Their worst fear was that someone would find out that they were connected (however distantly) with people like Mrs. Weasley and my own parents.

It wasn't good for them to be so uptight about things. But it didn't matter. We would be away from them soon enough. Vermin was still glaring at Harry and I, both of us who tried to keep our expressions neutral. It was very hard though. I wanted to laugh so desperately. Mrs. Weasley's mistake really was quite comical. But if we didn't do or say anything stupid, Harry might just be in for the treat of a lifetime without a fight. We waited for Vermin to say something, but he merely continued to glare. I shifted awkwardly, thinking of something to say.

"Could have always just said that it was a joke between college friends," I muttered as helpfully as possible.

"Silence!" Vermin shouted.

We both jumped slightly. "Sorry. Just trying to be helpful..." I mumbled.

Okay... Talking to him myself wasn't going to help. This was something that Harry needed to handle. But I knew that he was afraid of upsetting his uncle and not being allowed to go. Clearly, he didn't understand that the Weasley's were coming to get him anyway. The two of us stood together in silence and glanced around a little awkwardly at each other. Finally, I gave Harry a reassuring nod. I didn't care about getting their permission, but it would make next summer a little bit easier if he got an agreement. Harry then decided to break the silence.

"So - can I go then?" he asked.

Perhaps saying something wasn't the best idea. Maybe we should have let him steam over the letter a little while longer. Because Vermin clearly didn't like being asked about anything having to do with Harry's magical abilities. A slight spasm crossed Vermin's large purple face. Not a bright idea. We should have waited and stayed quiet for a little while longer and given him some time to think. The mustache over his face bristled. I figured I knew what was going on behind the mustache: a furious battle as two of Vermin's most fundamental instincts came into conflict.

Allowing Harry to go would make Harry happy, something Vermin had struggled against for thirteen years. On the other hand, allowing Harry to disappear to the Weasley's for the rest of the summer would get rid of him two weeks earlier than anyone could have hoped, and Vermin hated having Harry in the house. If Harry left Vermin's house for the summer, it also meant that I wouldn't come around and they were terrified of me accidentally letting it slip that I wasn't normal. To give himself thinking time, it seemed, Vermin looked down at Mrs. Weasley's letter again.

"He'll be out of your hair for the rest of the summer," I tried to reason with Vermin softly.

Vermin glanced up at me, narrowing his already beady eyes. "You'll be going as well?" he asked.

"Yes. We'll be there for the rest of the summer. I might pop back home from time to time," I said.

Vermin hated me almost as much as he hated Harry. Mostly because - even without Harry around - he was still loosely tied to the people that he thought were so abnormal. Magical people right next door to his perfectly normal family. He narrowed his eyes again before glancing back down to the letter. I exchanged a quick look with Harry. We were both rocking back and forth nervously. The Weasley's would be coming for Harry anyway but things would be so much easier if Vermin would just agree to let Harry come. But easy had never been Vermin's forte.

"Who is this woman?" Vermin asked, staring at the signature with distaste.

I rolled my eyes. He knew who she was. "You've seen her. She's my friend Ron's mother, she was meeting him off the Hog- off the school train at the end of last term," Harry explained.

The moment that I realized what he had been about to say I had stomped down on Harry's foot. Judging by the look that he had given me, I could assume that it had really hurt. I would apologize for it later. I knew that I had just saved him from a magnificent fight and a big fat 'no' on the Quidditch World Cup. Harry had almost said 'Hogwarts Express,' and that was a sure way to get his uncle's temper up. Nobody ever mentioned the name of Harry or I's school aloud in the Dursley household. Perhaps they thought that they could contract strangeness by association.

It was always rather amusing talking about classes and Hogwarts around the neighborhood with Mom and Dad when we were close enough to the Dursley's for them to hear. The amount of times that I had seen Horse-Face nearly faint at the mention of Professor Trelawney and her crystal balls and tea leaves or seen Vermin go beet red over my loud discussions of what potions were best for curing Dragon Pox... Vermin screwed up his enormous face as though trying to remember something very unpleasant. Probably his sort-of meeting with Mrs. Weasley.

"Dumpy sort of woman? Load of children with red hair?" Vermin finally growled.

Harry and I exchanged a little look with each other. I hated the way that people spoke about the Weasley's. Not just the magical community, but the Muggle one, too. They might have been poor, but they were wonderful. I frowned at his wording, noticing that Harry was doing the same. I did think that it was a bit rich of Vermin to call anyone 'dumpy,' when his own son, Dudley, had finally achieved what he'd been threatening to do since the age of three, and become wider than he was tall. Unable to stop it, I snapped back at Vermin.

"She's not dumpy," I hissed.

She might have been a little short and stout, but she certainly wasn't dumpy. He just didn't like the way that witch's and wizard's robes looked. Which, admittedly, was a little strange to a normal Muggle. They did kind of look like bath robes. I cracked my knuckles, wishing that Fred and George were here to teach Vermin a little lesson on speaking about their mother that way. But I supposed that it didn't matter. Vermin had barely even noticed me speaking to him. Vermin was perusing the letter again. His eyes stopped scanning about halfway through.

"Quidditch," Vermin muttered under his breath. "Quidditch - what is this rubbish?"

That time my wrists rolled slightly. I would have liked to pelt a Bludger right towards his fat head. I had even spoken about Quidditch before. Not that I'd been able to talk about it for very long before Vermin had panicked and snapped at me to stop speaking about my unnaturalness in his house. But I knew that he had heard me refer to the sport before. He didn't have to be an ass about it. I felt a second stab of annoyance. Glancing at Harry, I could tell that he felt the exact same.

"It's a sport," Harry said shortly. "Played on broom-"

"All right, all right!" Vermin interrupted loudly.

But I wasn't quite finished playing this game. "We play the sport on our school team. It's a good chance to see a professional game," I continued.

Vermin stared at me, his large chest rising and falling rapidly. "This what your father used to do?" he asked.

"Yep. He was on the United States' team," I explained. "It's Ireland and Bulgaria this year."

He must have remembered when I had explained to Harry's Aunt Marge that my father had been a professional athlete. I saw, with some satisfaction, that Vermin looked vaguely panicky at the conversation of the magical sport that had started with the explanation of how it was played. Apparently, his nerves couldn't stand the sound of the word 'broomsticks' in his living room. He took refuge in perusing the letter again. Harry and I exchanged the slightest smile. I saw his lips form the words 'send us your answer... in the normal way.' Vermin scowled.

"What does she mean, 'the normal way'?" he spat.

"Normal for us," Harry said, motioning between us. Before Vermin could stop him, he added, "You know, owl post. That's what's normal for wizards."

That definitely wasn't the right thing to say, as entertaining as it might have been to see his reaction. And he certainly gave the exact one that Harry had been looking for. Vermin looked as outraged as if Harry had just uttered a disgusting swear word. I gave a tiny grin down to the floor. It was always entertaining hearing Vermin deal with any mention of magic in his home. Shaking with anger, he shot a nervous look through the window, as though expecting to see some of the neighbors with their ears pressed against the glass. I rolled my eyes.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to mention that unnaturalness under my roof?" Vermin hissed, his face now a rich plum color. "You stand there, in the clothes Petunia and I have put on your ungrateful back -"

"Only after Dudley finished with them," Harry said coldly.

That was probably the moment that Harry had pushed things a little too far in between the two of them. I knew that the one thing that Vermin and Horse-Face didn't tolerate was Harry being bluntly rude to them. They might have deserved it but it was a bad idea to tempt fate. Indeed, Harry was dressed in a sweatshirt so large for him that he had had to roll back the sleeves five times so as to be able to use his hands, and which fell past the knees of his extremely baggy jeans. I grabbed Harry and kept him stationary at my side, just in case he tried to do something stupid.

"I will not be spoken to like that!" Vermin howled, trembling with rage.

If Harry had had it his way, I figured that he would have already sent at least three wayward spells to Vermin. I wanted him to remain quiet and wait for Vermin to give his consent, but it quickly became clear that Harry wasn't going to stand for this. Ever since he had been accepted to Hogwarts I had noticed that it was gone were the days when he had been forced to take every single one of the Dursley's stupid rules. He wasn't following Dudley's diet, and he wasn't going to let Vermin stop him from going to the Quidditch World Cup, not if either one of us could help it.

Harry took a deep, steadying breath and then said, "Okay, I can't see the World Cup. Can I go now, then? Only I've got a letter to Sirius I want to finish. You know - my godfather."

For a moment I had really thought that Harry was going to say that it was fine that he didn't go to the World Cup. That was where I would have said something. But now I realized what he was planning on doing. Scaring and blackmailing Vermin into allowing him to go with us to the World Cup. It was obvious that he had done it. He had said the magic words. Now the two of us watched the purple recede blotchily from Vermin's face, making it look like badly mixed black currant ice cream. I had to look down at the floor to keep from laughing.

"Oh, that's right. We haven't talked to him in a while," I told Harry brightly.

It worked just as we expected it to. "You're - You're writing to him, are you?" Vermin asked, in a would-be calm voice - but I had seen the pupils of his tiny eyes contract with sudden fear.

"Well - yeah. It's been a while since he heard from me, and, you know, if he doesn’t, he might start thinking something's wrong," Harry said casually.

"We've got a perfectly good place for him to stay, as a matter of fact. Maybe you'd like to meet him," I offered happily.

Vermin would have lost it if he had known in the first place that a convicted felon had been next door - even if for just a few hours - so that he could bond with his two godchildren. Made even worse by the fact that he was distantly related to Harry and was my neighbor. But to have Sirius come back, even if we could just get him to write a letter saying that he was on his way, I knew that it would be enough to convince Vermin. Harry and I stopped there to enjoy the effect of our words.

I could almost see the cogs working under Vermin's thick, dark, neatly parted hair. If he tried to stop Harry writing to Sirius, Sirius would think Harry was being mistreated. If he told Harry he couldn't go to the Quidditch World Cup, Harry would write and tell Sirius, who would know Harry was being mistreated. There was only one thing for Vermin to do. Grin and bear it. I could see the conclusion forming in Harry's uncle's mind as though the great mustached face were transparent. We both tried not to smile, to keep our own faces as blank as possible. And then Vermin spoke.

"Well, all right then. You can go to this ruddy... this stupid... this World Cup thing. You write and tell these - these Weasley's they're to pick you up, mind. I haven't got time to go dropping you off all over the country."

"They're coming here anyways," I said.

Vermin turned a heated glare on me before continuing. "And you can spend the rest of the summer there. And you can tell your - your godfather... tell him... tell him you're going."

"Okay then," Harry said brightly.

"Don't bother having him over," Vermin called after us.

"Not to worry. He'll only come if he thinks that Harry is being mistreated," I said.

"Right," Vermin said awkwardly.

Maybe it would be funny to have Sirius stop by for just a few minutes. Just to appear long enough for Vermin to see him and have a near heart attack. It might have been rather comical to see. Harry and I turned and walked toward the living room door, fighting the urge to jump into the air and whoop. We had just made things a lot easier on the two of us and the Weasley's. After everything the two of us were going... we were both going to the Weasley's, and Harry was going to get to watch his first Quidditch World Cup!

"Very well done, Mr. Potter," I teased, nudging Harry.

"And you as well, Miss Nox," Harry said, nudging me back.

"He's such an idiot," I laughed, rolling my eyes at Vermin's stupidity.

How could he have really thought that we would risk our godfather's safety to bring him back here just to threaten Vermin? Moron... "For once, that might actually work out in my favor," Harry pointed out.

He was right about that. As we walked past the living room, I arched a brow at myself. "You know that the Weasley's are probably going to come by Floo powder?" I asked.

"So?"

"So... you think that your family is completely accustomed to at least one fully grown woman erupting from your fireplace?"

It was something that hadn't dawned on me until right now. Should we have said something? I wouldn't have blamed the Dursley's if they were nervous from the sight of at least one adult woman walking out of their fireplace. But it might have also been a little funny to see them lose it at the sight of magic. Especially since they were still terrified of magic ever since Dudley had gotten a pig's tail on his butt from Hagrid when Harry had first met him. But maybe they wouldn't come by Floo. Maybe they would realize that that might frighten the Dursley's.

"Should we tell them what to expect?" Harry asked.

In the instance that the Weasley's did come by the Floo network, it might have been a little funny to watch them squirm. "Oh, come on, Harry. What fun would that be?" I teased.

"If that's what they do they're going to lose it," Harry said.

"Probably. But you'll be on your way out of the house anyways," I reasoned.

He would be just fine. The Weasley's would have almost a year to get rid their nasty thoughts about Harry. They would be back to normally hating him in no time. Outside in the hall the two of us nearly ran into Dudley, as we had been skipping down the hall towards his bedroom. It seemed that Dudley had been lurking behind the door, clearly hoping to overhear Harry and I being told off. Or maybe just Harry. Dudley and I were actually on rather good terms. Dudley looked shocked to see the broad grin on Harry's face. He had clearly been expecting a magnificent fight.

"That was an excellent breakfast, wasn't it? I feel really full, don't you?" Harry asked Dudley brightly.

For just a brief moment I felt a little bad. Dudley had actually been rather nice to me over the past few days. But that didn't excuse all of the months and years that he had been a horrible monster to Harry. Maybe if he got to be a little bit nicer in time I would feel a little differently about messing with him. Laughing at the astonished look on Dudley's face, Harry and I took the stairs three at a time, and hurled ourselves back into his bedroom. The two of us instantly slammed together into a somewhat painful hug. We had actually made this thing work.

"You are such a jerk," I laughed.

Harry chuckled through a nod. "So is he."

"That's true." As I seated myself on Harry's bed I could already hear Vermin and Horse-Face discuss being rid of their nephew for the rest of the summer. "But he gave me some surprisingly good advice on what to do with my parents," I said.

Harry looked shocked as he sat down next to me. "We're talking about the same Dudley Dursley here, right?"

"That's what I thought at first too."

"What'd he offer?"

"To tell Mom and Dad how I feel about Cedric," I said. I'd thought that Harry would roll his eyes but he merely arched an eyebrow in confusion, just the way that I had done. "Let them know that I really do care about him. It's not just the two of us fooling around with each other when no adults are around."

Harry stared at me for a few seconds. "You're sure that it was Dudley that you were talking to?"

"Short and stout? Just about as wide as he is tall?" I offered.

Harry laughed. "Fair enough."

Honestly Dudley was probably one of the most level-headed people right now. My parents had become furious with me and clearly weren't in the mood to act rationally. Harry wasn't giving much emotion but I could tell that he kind of liked the idea that Cedric and I might permanently be apart. As much as he might have loved me and wanted to support me, he would never like Cedric. I wasn't sure about Hermione and the Weasley's but I could assume that they would all probably think that our little road block was a good idea.

Harry jumped off of the bed and pushed himself underneath. "Want some cake?" he called up.

"Please," I chirped.

But he stopped when he spotted something. I glanced up and saw where he was looking. Clearly, he had realized that Hedwig was back. I should have figured, considering that Dai had arrived sometime over the night. Hedwig was now sitting in her cage, staring at Harry and I with her enormous amber eyes, and clicking her beak in the way that meant she was annoyed about something. I raised an eyebrow. What was she all upset about? Exactly what was annoying her became apparent almost at once.

Hoping to calm her down, I walked over and stroked back her ruffled white feathers. "Hi, Hedwig. How are you, girl?" I asked.

Hedwig hissed as I pet back her feathers. "Ouch!" Harry yelped as what appeared to be a small, gray, feathery tennis ball collided with the side of his head.

I glanced over at the whizzing ball of fluff. "What the hell is that?" I asked.

"I don't know."

That was when it dawned on me. I knew exactly what it was that had just hit Harry. "That's the damn bird that Sirius sent back with the letter on the Hogwarts Express. This is from Ron," I said, motioning to the letter the bird was carrying.

Harry massaged the spot that the owl had hit him furiously, looking up to see what had hit him. That was when he saw a minute owl, small enough to fit into the palm of his hand, whizzing excitedly around the room like a loose firework. The owl looked like it was going to slam into the walls. With my motioning, Harry then realized that the owl had dropped a letter at his feet. Harry bent down and motioned me over. Immediately I recognized Ron's handwriting and Harry tore open the envelope. Inside was a hastily scribbled note.

Harry and Tara - DAD GOT THE TICKETS - Ireland versus Bulgaria, Monday night. Mum's writing to the Muggles to ask you to stay. They might already have the letter, I don't know how fast Muggle post is. She's already talked to your parents, Tara. They know that we're coming and checked that we could take you. They said that it was no problem, so we'll see you tomorrow. Thought I'd send this with Pig anyway.

Pig? There weren't any pigs around here. Not that I had seen at least. I was sure that we would have heard Vermin or Horse-Face shrieking at the top of their lungs by now if there had been a pig here. Harry seemed to be staring at the word 'Pig,' too. Then he looked up at the tiny owl now zooming around the light fixture on the ceiling. I glanced up too. Could that have been the name of the little owl? That was stupid. I had never seen anything that looked less like a pig. Maybe I couldn't read Ron's writing. It was rather terrible. I went back to the letter:

We're coming for you whether the Muggles like it or not, you can't miss the World Cup, only Mum and Dad reckon it's better if we pretend to ask their permission first. If they say yes, send Pig back with your answer pronto, and we'll come and get you at five o'clock on Sunday. Mum says that Tara's parents will come to the house in two days. If they say no, send Pig back pronto and we'll come and get you at five o’clock on Sunday anyway.

Hermione's arriving this afternoon. Percy's started work - the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Don't mention anything about Abroad while you two are here unless you want the pants bored off you.

See you soon  
Ron.

One more day and we would be on our way to the Quidditch World Cup! I couldn't wait. "Calm down!" Harry yelled as the small owl flew low over his head, twittering madly with what I could only assume was pride at having delivered the letter to the right person. I snorted as I watched Harry chase the little owl around the room. "Come here, I need you to take my answer back!"

"He's kind of cute," I giggled.

"He's a pain," Harry grunted.

Perhaps I just thought that he was cute because he made me laugh, watching Harry have a terrible time trying to catch the little owl. I didn't care. It made me laugh. The little owl fluttered down on top of Hedwig's cage. Hedwig looked coldly up at it, as though daring it to try and come any closer. I gave Harry a slightly panicked look. The last thing that we needed was Hedwig eating Ron's owl. We already knew from experience what happened when Ron thought that something ate his pet. Harry seized his eagle feather quill once more, grabbed a fresh piece of parchment, and wrote:

Ron, it's all okay, the Muggles say I can come. See you five o'clock tomorrow. Can't wait.

Harry.

Harry was about to fold it up but I grabbed his arm and brought the letter back to me. "Give me it. I want to write something," I said.

Harry raised a brow and gave me the letter. "Here."

Please tell me that you're coming through the Floo network! I'd love to see the Dursley's reaction to that. Also, are you rooting for your boyfriend in the game? Come on, you know that Ireland is better! Tell Fred and George that I'll kill them if they're planning any jokes on me.

Can't wait to see everyone.

Love always,  
Tara.

Seeing Ron be around Viktor Krum would probably be hilarious. For once I could harass someone for their crush even though it wasn't a real crush. Maybe more of a fascination. Harry folded our notes up very small, and with immense difficulty, tied it to the tiny owl's leg as it hopped on the spot with excitement. I snorted under my breath as I watched the two of them. At least Harry was getting a good workout. The moment the note was secure, the owl was off again; it zoomed out of the window and out of sight.

That owl probably flew at least ten times faster than Hedwig or Dai did. Mostly because it was so damned excited. I laughed at the little owl as I glanced over to my window. I could see Dai sunning himself in the windowsill. He appeared quite frustrated at the sight of the little owl. He hissed at the small owl to keep it from coming to see him. I snorted to myself. Both of our owls were definitely on the snooty side. Harry rolled his eyes as I laughed before turning over to Hedwig, who was watching with a distasteful glare.

"Feeling up to a long journey?" Harry asked her. Hedwig hooted in a dignified sort of a way. I smiled at the owl. "Can you take this to Sirius for me?" Harry picked up his letter before taking it back. "Hang on... I just want to finish it."

Smiling at the large owl, I walked over to Harry's bed and plopped myself back down. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Hedwig ruffle her feathers importantly, making me smile. Harry unfolded the parchment and hastily added a postscript. I looked over his shoulder and read along curiously as he wrote.

If you want to contact either one of us, we'll be at our friend Ron Weasley's for the rest of the summer. His dad's gotten us tickets for the Quidditch World Cup! Mr. Nox got the best seats for all of us because of his position at the Ministry. We're going to be right in the middle of the action! Tara says that it's going to be great.

Well that was definitely the best way to get in contact with us. I didn't know whether or not Mrs. Weasley and the rest of her family knew that Sirius was innocent. My parents hadn't talked much about it. I had a feeling that they hadn't told anyone yet while the hunt for Sirius was still in full swing. Perhaps they would tell more people once things calmed down on his front. With the letter to Sirius finished, Harry tied it to Hedwig's leg; she kept unusually still, as though determined to show him how a real post owl should behave. I snorted at her.

"I'll be at Ron's when you get back, all right?" Harry told her.

"Bye, Hedwig," I chirped.

Besides Dai, she was definitely my favorite owl around. I liked just about every owl more than I liked Hale, who was getting into his senior years. As much as my parents loved him, I couldn't wait until he finally moved on and we could get a new family owl. Hedwig nipped Harry's finger affectionately, shot over to me and nudged my shoulder playfully, then, with a soft swooshing noise, spread her enormous wings and soared out of the open window. Little did she know that she was eventually heading right back to where the little owl had come from.

"What time is it?" I asked curiously.

Harry glanced down at his watch. "A little past ten."

"Damn..." I had left shortly after nine. It was time for me to head back home to keep from getting into even more trouble. "I promised my parents that I would only be here for an hour or so. I should probably head out. Hopefully I'll be back soon," I said.

"Never thought that I'd say this but maybe you should follow Dudley's advice," Harry said.

"I think that I will. Can't make things worse, right?" I offered playfully.

"Just make sure that you can still make it to the World Cup, alright?"

"Of course. Save some cake for me?"

"Always. See you later," Harry said.

"See you," I chirped.

Maybe if I was lucky my parents would just let me go. Which would be great, because I didn't want to spend the rest of the day dealing with the awkward silences. Harry and I shared a quick hug before I headed back down the stairs, saying a quick parting word to the Dursley's before heading out the front door. They barely glanced at me. As I walked back into my house I noticed that my parents were sitting in the living room. They both glanced up at me as I walked in. I thought about heading to my bedroom for a moment before deciding to go with Dudley's advice.

So, I walked over to the couch where they were seated and rocked awkwardly back and forth. "Um -"

The two of them glanced up as I smiled dumbly. They clearly knew that I didn't know where to start the conversation. "Vernon and Petunia still on that diet for their son?" Dad asked.

I had told them about Dudley's diet early in the summer. "Yeah."

"Does Harry want any food?" Mom asked.

"He's already got a lot from us and everyone else," I said.

Never had we had such an awkward conversation between the three of us. "We've got some waffles for the two of you. Why don't you go over there and bring them to him? The two of you can share them," Mom said, pointing back to the kitchen.

My eyebrows shot up. They were offering me to go back to Harry's without me having to beg? "Really?" I asked disbelievingly.

"Of course," Mom said, smiling.

"Thanks," I said happily. I turned to head back to Harry's house before stopping and going back to the couch. We had to clear the air before the World Cup started and we were apart a lot. "Can we talk for a moment?"

"We'd like that," Dad said slowly.

They both remained seated as I tilted from side to side for a few moments, thinking about what I wanted to say. Finally, it came to me. "There's something that I want to tell you both before either one of you say anything else. I just want you to know that... I shouldn't have lied about Cedric and I's relationship. I know that. It was immature and I was doing it to save myself trouble. Nothing else." They both nodded at me appreciatively. "But I do want you to know that what I have with Cedric isn't just him convincing me to do things or taking advantage. That's not it at all."

They both looked a little bit uncomfortable but I didn't care right now. They needed to know what I thought about this. "I really care about him. He's really smart and funny and he thinks the world of me. We have a really good time together and bring out the best in each other. It's not just what the two of you saw in Diagon Alley. We study together all the time at Hogwarts. He actually manages to get me to do my work. He's good at History of Magic and Astronomy and he helps me study. I helped him study for his Arithmancy exam before he took his O.W.L.'s this year.

"It was one of the things that we spent the most time doing. And he's also a Prefect. Doesn't that mean something? He's a good influence. He always trying to talk me out of breaking the rules and making sure that I'm okay whenever I'm upset. He tries to stop me from doing things to put myself in danger - it's just because I don't listen. Yes, we took it a little too far out in Diagon Alley and I'm sorry about that. But I hope that you take into consideration what I just said. I like him as a person and I really want to be with him," I said, hoping that they would listen.

Was it the best speech that I had ever given? Probably not. But it was certainly one of the longest. All I knew for sure was that I had gotten everything off of my chest and it had been completely truthful. For once. I smiled awkwardly at my parents as I watched them look back and forth between the two of them, clearly wondering what came next for us. Neither one of them looked totally convinced, but they looked a lot less angry than they had been before. I guessed that not being furious with me was a step in the right direction.

Finally, Mom spoke up. "We appreciate the honesty. Honey, we know that you like Cedric and we know that he's a good boy. Yes, it does sound very hypocritical that we want you to wait before dating." I wanted to scoff but I knew that it would put me back to square one. So, I remained silent. "Mostly because we didn't wait. But, honey, we all want better for our kids."

"Shouldn't this be my mistake to make?" I asked carefully.

"One year, Tara. That's what we're asking. Wait until we waited to start seriously dating," Dad said.

One year was all that they were asking for... Well I certainly wasn't going to be treated like a baby for another year. I could manage it myself. Two weeks followed by two months next summer of pretending. I had managed it mostly pretty well this year. I could do it next year too. I would be at Hogwarts for most of that time anyways and I knew that no one there cared enough to write to my parents and tell them the truth about what I was doing. Yes. I didn't like what they were asking for but I could easily just lie to them as I had done before. Childish but effective.

So, I finally said, "Okay."

Mom and Dad exchanged a suspicious look. "We have your word?" Mom asked.

"You have my word," I lied.

"You know that we're doing this because we love and care about you, right? We want you to be happy and that means being a little more mature before hopping into that first relationship," Mom said.

"Of course," I said.

And in my own way, I did know that my parents were trying to help me. I knew that they were trying to keep me from getting too involved with someone when I was so young and getting my heart broken. It was good of them to try and help me out the way that they were doing. I just didn't like the way that they were going about it. When it came down to it, this was my mistake to make and I was planning on making it. I cared too much about Cedric to stop dating him. If we did, the choice was going to be ours, not theirs.

"Thank you for understanding, Tara," Dad said.

"We like Cedric. We really do. We'd just like the two of you to take a step back," Mom said.

"I understand," I said.

Dad stepped forward and laid a hand on my shoulder. "That means watching yourself when you're around him."

"Watching myself?" I repeated dumbly.

"Just mind the boundaries that we'd like to set," he explained.

"Which are?" I asked.

Now this conversation I had been expecting once they had found out the truth. "Not having the two of you alone somewhere that we can't look over you. We'd like you both to be fully supervised around each other. For a while we don't even think that the two of you should be speaking. Spend some time apart. Definitely no more physical contact the way that you've already had. Be friends for a while longer," Mom explained.

Well that was going to be a big fat no on all points. "Longer than three years?" I muttered.

"Let's not go back on the progress that we've already made," Mom said. I let out a deep breath and nodded. "You've managed three years as friends. I think that you can manage one more."

"If he likes you as much as he seems to, he won't mind waiting," Dad added.

"Yeah. You're right," I said lowly.

It was very likely that he was right. Cedric wouldn't have minded waiting another year for me. But I minded. The three of us sat around for a little while smiling very tersely at each other. It wasn't because the three of us were super happy with each other right now. Even after everything, our relationship was still incredibly tense. I knew that what I was planning to do was the exact same problem that had brought all of this in in the first place, but I really didn't care. In the end, I wasn't going to stop being with Cedric. I liked being with him.

"When are you going to give me a chance to speak with him?" I asked as carefully as possible.

"I assume that the two of you will run into each other at some point at the Quidditch World Cup," Mom said. I pushed back a grin. An excellent time to sneak off... "You can have a conversation about it then."

"And you'll let me talk to him alone?" I asked.

"We'll watch from a distance," Dad said.

Or not. "I'm not going to run off with him," I snapped.

"Tara... please don't push," Mom breathed.

Stop it, moron. Let them think that you're agreeing to their rules. "Okay. Sorry," I mumbled.

There was a brief, awkward silence. "Arthur still coming to get you kids tomorrow?" Dad finally asked.

"Yes. Ron sent the letter," I said.

"That's good." I nodded blankly. "Just so you know, we're having them go to the Dursley's house. They'll have some of the kids with them so they'll likely be traveling by the Floo network," Dad explained.

"You know that's going to terrify the Dursley's?" I pointed out.

"Of course, it will," Dad said, grinning.

There was some of his old personality shining through. "Can't wait to see that," I said, grinning wickedly. "You coming with us tomorrow?"

"Not tomorrow," Mom said, which was fine by me. "We're going to be at the World Cup starting tomorrow afternoon, so we'll drop you off over at the Dursley's before we go. You'll go with them and we'll meet up with you all when you get there in two days." I nodded. "Afterwards we'll all enjoy the Cup together. That'll be fun. After the Cup you'll go back to the Weasley's for the week while we work on cleaning up the stadium. You'll come home on the weekend. We'll meet you all the morning of September first to go with you all to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters."

That meant that most of the remainder of my summer break would be without them, which made me perfectly happy. "Sounds like a plan. So, I'm only spending one more weekend at home?" I asked.

"That's the idea right now since we'll be out of the house and away so much over the next two weeks," Dad said.

"Fine by me. I miss the Weasley's," I said happily.

"That means that you'll be staying at the Burrow," Dad snapped.

Good to know that they now had absolutely no trust in me. "Oh, relax. I'm not going to sneak out for a midnight rendezvous with Cedric while I'm there. I'm going to spend it with them," I said honestly.

And I really wasn't lying about that. I did plan to spend the remainder of my summer at the Weasley's. "It's going to take time for us to trust you again," Mom pointed out.

"I know," I said.

"Listen, honey, we made some extra waffles this morning for the two of you," Mom said. She got to her feet, walked into the kitchen, grabbed a plate of cold waffles, and handed them to me. "Why don't you go bring these to Harry? Entertain him for a day before he finally escapes the Dursley's."

"He'll appreciate that," I said, taking the waffles with a grin. "Thanks. I'll be back for dinner."

"Okay," Dad said.

"Tell Harry we said hello," Mom called after me.

"I will," I shouted back.

Did they really believe me? I always had prided myself on being a good liar. This was one of those moments. I headed out of the house, practically skipping along, grinning at the massive stupidity of my parents. Of course, I wasn't going to stay away from Cedric for another year. Two more weeks of being extremely careful of what I said and did around my parents. That was all that I needed to do. After that I was home free. The moment that I got on the Hogwarts Express, though, I was planning on giving Cedric the biggest, most intense, kiss that I ever had.

Third Person P.O.V.

Back at the Nox household, Marcus and Julia Nox were sitting together on their couch, Julia leaned up against her husband. "You know that she's lying to us, right?" Julia asked her husband.

Marcus laughed. "Oh, of course I do."

"The first thing that she's going to do when she gets some freedom is head right back for him."

If it had been Marcus, he would have done the exact same thing that he knew his daughter was planning on doing. "She will. But she's getting a little bit older. She's going to be at Hogwarts without us. We can't just watch over her at all times. Of course, I don't want to let her just run rampant with him," Marcus said, shuddering at the thought.

They both knew what boys Cedric's age were thinking of, and neither were comfortable with it. "No, but I trust her a little more than that. I really doubt that they've gone that far," Julia said.

Marcus twitched slightly. "Yes, I don't either," he agreed hesitantly.

"Perhaps that day might come eventually but that's something that we can deal with when the time comes," Julia said. Marcus twitched again as his wife laid a hand against his leg comfortingly. "Right now, it's more about the fact that I don't think that she's ready yet."

"She's just so young. I'd prefer her to wait until she's fifteen or sixteen."

"You'd prefer her to wait until she's sixty," Julia pointed out.

She was completely right about that. "After knowing the way that Sirius, Remus, James, and I acted during our own days at Hogwarts... yes, I'd much rather she waits until she's sixty and I'm long dead," Marcus said.

He smiled as his wife giggled softly. "To his credit, Cedric is a good boy," she admitted.

"Yes, I've always liked him," Marcus said slowly.

"Until now?" Julia asked.

"Until now," Marcus confirmed. "But I see what Tara means about him. He really does help her out in school. The two of them seem to be good friends. I just wish that I didn't have to see... that."

No father wanted to think of his daughter with her boyfriend. "It's never easy to see your little girl start to grow up."

"What do you think?"

Julia was silent for a moment before saying, "As much as it pains me to say this, I think that maybe it's time to let Tara make her own mistakes. She's going to have to start making them at some point or another. But we can't always protect her. Just be there to pick up the pieces. Although... I'd prefer to keep the two of them apart over the summer. We can watch over them and when they're in school they'll have the teachers at least keeping some distance."

"Remember when you said that having a kid would be fun?" Marcus asked.

"Oh, shut up," Julia snapped, whacking her husband over the back of the head. Marcus laughed. "The lying and sneaking around... I wonder who she got that from?"

"You."

Julia laughed again. "Time to let her make her own mistake?"

"She's almost fifteen. We can't look after her forever. She'll come to us when the time is right."

"We raised a good kid. She's just got a penchant for breaking the rules."

It was a trait that she got from both of her parents. But Marcus could never resist an opportunity to mess with his wife. "That's probably because her mother used to always sneak into the restricted section of the library to meet up with her boyfriend before she was ready for the rest of her friends to know that they were dating," he said.

Julia scowled at her husband. That was absolutely his idea. "And who was it that talked me into that?" she hissed.

"Certainly not me," Marcus said innocently, making them both laugh.

Tara's P.O.V.

As I walked back over to Harry's house, I took my time, plotting a chance to get away with Cedric during the World Cup and telling him the truth of what was happening. Not some diluted truth my parents wanted me to give him. So, I walked back into the Dursley's house with a smile plastered on my face, blatantly ignoring their questions on why I was back already. They didn't bother me when I jumped up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and walked into Harry's bedroom without knocking as I so often did. Harry stared at me in surprise s I plopped onto his bed.

"Back already?" he asked.

"It was actually kind of nice, Harry. The three of us sat down and had a chat about Cedric and I," I said.

"They're going to let you date him?" Harry asked, shocked.

Snorting under my breath, I shook my head. "Of course not. Don't be stupid. They're not going to let the two of us date until at least another year passes and I'm not waiting that long. I lied to them and told them that I'd stop seeing him and take it slow," I explained.

Harry was silent for a moment before asking, "Do you see how we're getting back to the original problem?"

This time I wasn't going to get caught. "It's a good idea. They can't be that stupid. They know that I'll go right back to being with him once we get back to Hogwarts," I pointed out.

They had to know the truth. They were just ignoring it. "So, you're just planning on ignoring the problem in the meantime?" Harry asked.

"Pretty much," I said.

"He'll be there at the World Cup, won't he?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. Why?"

"You two think that you can manage to keep your hands off each other for an entire few days?"

My eyes narrowed into little slits. "Hah-hah. I've got better self-control than you think that I do," I snapped.

Harry raised a brow and leaned down, grabbing something. "Sugar Quill?" he offered.

"Now that's not fair. Using my one weakness against me," I groaned.

The one thing that I would never be able to resist... Harry laughed as I reached over and snatched the Sugar Quill from him, shoving him back against the bed. Harry laughed as he sat back up, grabbing the Sugar Quill and snapped it in half for the two of us to share. Harry managed to pull out all of the food from underneath his floorboards for us to eat - his last meal, in a way. We spent most of the day laying back on the bed together, chatting about the Quidditch World Cup and all that it would be. It was one of the happiest that I could remember being over the summer.

We sat together on the floor as we ate some of the last bits of birthday cake he had, savoring the happiness that was flooding through ourselves. The two of us had cake, and Dudley had nothing but grapefruit; it was a bright summer's day, we would be leaving Privet Drive tomorrow, Harry's scar and my hand felt perfectly normal again, and we were going to watch the Quidditch World Cup. Not to mention that I had a plan to get back with Cedric without my parents knowing. It was hard, just now, to feel worried about anything - even Lord Voldemort.


	4. Back to the Burrow

Much of the following morning ended up being spent packing up my things. I was as useless with packing as I had always been, waiting until the last moment to run around and shove all of the things back in my suitcases. My parents were planning on Apparating them over to the Burrow in the morning so that I didn't have to worry about bringing them with me today. Harry would already have all of his things. If I brought all of my things with us, we would start running out of room. Plus, I had a lot more things than Harry did.

As much as I would soon wish that I wasn't in school with all of the studying that I had to do, I was thrilled to be getting to go to the Weasley's for a few weeks. I missed them all. And I really missed getting to work with the twins on their eventual joke shop, which had apparently gotten along pretty well since I had last seen them. I did love my parents, but I really didn't want to have to hang out with them for the next two weeks. Especially with the whole Cedric debacle. It was going to be good to hang out with the rest of my friends and harass the twins again.

Their business plan was some of the first things that I had ended up packing away. I wanted to make sure that I didn't lose anything. I constantly kept copies of everything that they did in the instance that their mother found their things and tossed them in the trash, which we knew she would do if she found anything. I was about halfway through packing all of my things when the Muggle cell phone began to ring. I dropped in my last few books and walked over to my bedside table, picking it up. There was only one person that it could be.

"Freddie? What's up?" I answered.

"Tara!" Fred's voice called.

"Wonderful to hear your voice!" George's near-identical voice called through the phone. "Since Fred's been hogging you all summer."

I could practically see the scowl on his face. "Have not!" Fred yelled at his twin.

"Georgie!" I chirped happily. I did talk to Fred slightly more than I talked to George, but I loved them both dearly. "Can't wait to see you boys, as much as I'm sure what I'll regret saying that."

"Now, now, Tara," Fred said.

"Have a little faith," George teased.

The only thing that I had faith in was that Fred and George were sure to do something to me while I was sleeping, just the way that they always did. "Are you two coming to get Harry and me?" I asked the twins.

"Yep. We're coming with Dad and Ron," Fred said.

"Awesome!" I chirped.

It would be wonderful to see the two of them get to meet the Dursley's, seeing as they'd heard so much about them from Harry and I. "You'll get to finally meet Bill and Charlie, too," George added.

"Are they at the Burrow?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah. Got in a few days ago," Fred explained.

"Cool," I said. I'd always wanted to meet the other two Weasley brothers. "Hey, I meant to ask you two. How are you getting here?"

"Don't know," Fred said.

"Dad said he arranged something," George added.

"That ought to be good," I snorted.

Seeing what Mr. Weasley thought would be a good idea to arrive at a Muggles' house (who notoriously hated wizards) would be absolutely fascinating. "We meant to ask you, Tara. Is Harry's cousin still on that diet?" Fred asked.

Dudley would likely stay on that diet until the end of his life. "Yeah. Barely getting more than one grapefruit a day but it's not doing much good. Doesn't look like he's lost anything more than his spirit," I snorted. It had been miserable for him since the end of the year. I knew that he couldn't wait for school to start up again so he could get dessert in their cafeteria. "Why do you ask?"

"Nothing to worry yourself with," George said.

His voice held a teasing note to it. What the hell were the two of them planning? "That sounds ominous," I commented.

"Tara!" Mom's voice came from downstairs. "Who are you talking to?"

"Shit," I muttered.

"Language, Tara," Fred teased.

"Shut up," I snapped, moving towards my dresser. "They're not supposed to know that I have this phone. They'll get all paranoid that I'm talking to Cedric."

There was some chattering coming from their end of the phone. "What do you -?"

"More on that later," I interrupted Fred. "See you later, boys!"

"Bye, Tara," the twins chirped.

Barely waiting for the twins to finish saying goodbye, I snapped the cell phone shut and flung it back into my dresser. I wouldn't need it until next summer anyway. As I slammed my dresser drawer shut, I darted over and flung myself back on top of all of my things. My parents didn't know about the phone and I was sure that they would take it if they realized that I had one. Even though I used it only to talk to the twins, they would probably get the idea that I was talking to Cedric. As I began moving my books around, my bedroom door swung open.

"Were you talking to someone?" Mom asked curiously.

"Myself. Sorry," I lied.

To my surprise, she didn't push it. She merely smiled and strode further into the room. "You know, they say the first sign of going insane is talking to yourself," she teased, sitting on the edge of my bed.

"Oh, I think we're long past that point," I joked.

We both laughed softly. I was being honest. We really were long past the point of me being somewhat sane. I had lost that after my First Year at Hogwarts. I smiled at my mother as we both sat back on the bed. I could feel the slightly awkward air in the room. We both loved each other but things were tense after the massive fight that we had gotten into over Cedric. She glanced over all of my packed things before her eyes landed on my pictures on my bedside table. The few that I hadn't packed yet, anyways.

Her eyes fell on the picture of Cedric and me in front of the Leaky Cauldron. To my surprise, a small smile fell over her face. "That's a nice picture," she said.

"I'm not getting rid of it," I responded.

It was one of my favorite pictures. "I'm not asking you to," Mom said. The two of us stared at each other as she let out a little breath. "I know you care for him, darling. He's a handsome boy. If I were in your place, I would have had a crush on him too."

For a long time, I didn't know how to respond. All I wanted to tell her was that it was obvious that I had a crush on Cedric. Everyone had a crush on him. All of the girls thought that he was adorable and the boys all thought that he was wonderful. Most of the people in Hogwarts liked him, at least. I had just been the one lucky enough to earn his affections. Something that I hadn't thought was possible for a long time. Something that I refused to let either one of my parents take from me.

"It's not just me," I finally said, settling on how I wanted to go about the conversation. "Most of the girls in Hogwarts have a crush on him."

"Must be nice to be the one who earned his affections," Mom commented, echoing what I had just thought.

Blushing slightly, I nodded. "Yeah. It was. Especially since I used to get called out by Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy, and Cho Chang for my crush on him. They would always say that he didn't care about me; he was just too nice to let me down easily," I said. Mom frowned. She knew how much Malfoy and I fought. "It was nice to get to throw him back in their faces."

"Just for that?" Mom asked curiously.

"No," I snapped quickly. "I really like him."

And it was the truth. I adored Cedric. "I can see that," Mom said, smiling fondly. "You're a good liar, Tara. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Yeah."

Lying was one of my many talents. "Guess what? Back in her day, your mother was a good liar too. I kept a lot of secrets from my parents because I thought that I was protecting them. I realized as I got older that I wasn't protecting them. I was protecting myself," Mom said pointedly. I arched a brow, unsure where this was going. "I like Cedric very much. I think he's a good influence on you."

Was she really telling me that she liked and approved of Cedric? I knew that she didn't. She only liked Cedric when the two of us had been friends. The moment that she realized that we had actually gotten romantically tangled, she had ended up hating him. But now it seemed that she had changed gears again. She was telling me that she liked him and that she thought that he was a good influence on me. She hadn't really thought that when she had caught the two of us locking lips in Diagon Alley the other day.

"You didn't think that yesterday," I commented softly.

"No," she agreed. "But I had time to think and calm down."

Did that mean what I thought that it meant? I wasn't sure so I decided to go with it. "So... you're okay with it?" I asked carefully.

Did I at least get one of their permission? That would help a little bit. "Not necessarily okay with it. But I stayed up very late last night thinking about everything," Mom explained. I nodded at her. "Your father will never budge on his position. He'll feel better when the year is up. You'll have owned up to your end of the promise and he'll have nothing to come back to you with."

"In the meantime?" I asked carefully.

A grin fell over her face. "Try and be a little sneakier."

The two of us stared at each other before we began laughing hysterically. I knew that there was a reason the two of us got along so well. It was because we were essentially the same person. She had lied to her parents about her first relationship just the same way that I had. She understood exactly where it was that I was coming from. She might not have liked it, but she did understand it. The two of us moved forward as I wrapped her in a hug. We might have argued a lot but she was always there for me when it counted.

"Thanks, Mom," I said happily.

She smiled down lovingly at me. "You're welcome. I'll see if I can try and get him to budge," Mom promised. I grinned softly. "If not, it's only two weeks."

"Yeah, I know."

That was one parent down that was okay with my relationship with Cedric. Now it was Dad's turn. Although I knew that it would be much harder to get him to budge on the whole relationship. He would always be paranoid about what was happening with the two of us. He would never want the two of us to be alone in a room together. But that was too bad. I was getting older and ready to date. Plus there was the simple fact that he couldn't look after me while I was at Hogwarts. He was just going to have to trust me.

We sat in silence for a little while before Mom spoke again. "You know, part of why I was so upset was because I wanted to know that my daughter felt like she could talk to me about boyfriend problems. I want you to be able to talk to me," Mom said quietly.

My heart sank. I loved my mother and wanted to be able to talk to her about boyfriend problems. "I wanted to be able to talk to you about it," I said.

"You can," Mom promised, giving me her hand.

The two of us sat together as I smiled at her. At least now I could talk to her about what was happening with Cedric. "I was telling the truth, you know. We've never... done that," I said awkwardly.

"I know. So does your father," Mom said. At least someone knew that we weren't to that point. "If it ever gets to that point, you're more than welcome to talk to me about it."

"We're not there yet," I promised.

"Keep it that way, please. You're far too young for that," Mom said.

"On that much, we agree," I muttered.

As much as I really cared for Cedric and really enjoyed our time together, there was no way that I was ready for that. I did enjoy the nights that we spent together - which I knew sounded terrible - but those were mostly innocent. The two of us enjoyed our time together. Laying in the Astronomy Tower or hanging out in the Prefect bathroom on the fifth floor. I thought about mentioning something to Mom about those nights but ultimately decided against it. Perhaps that was a conversation for a little later on down the road.

Eventually, Mom's gaze shifted toward my desk chair. Her eyes locked onto the Hufflepuff scarf sitting there and I blushed as she grinned. "Since when were you Sorted into Hufflepuff?" she asked playfully.

"He gave it to me. Come to think of it, I actually have a lot of his things. Coats and sweaters and scarves. Mostly because I'm always cold," I laughed, glad that I had packed all of his things.

It was really time to give him his clothes back. "A gentleman. I like it," Mom said. We both smiled as I nodded. He really was a gentleman. "How do your friends feel about him?"

Snorting under my breath, I shook my head. "They don't love it. They think that he's too old and basically the same things that you were thinking. They just don't like him because he's handsome and popular and smart. Honestly, Harry and Ron are worse about it than you two are. They always roll their eyes and walk away. Hermione's the one person who thinks it's cute," I said happily. At least someone didn't mind my relationship. "The twins gave him the nickname 'Pretty-Boy Diggory' to show their distaste."

But that nickname was made before I showed up at Hogwarts. "Fred doesn't like him, then?" Mom asked curiously.

"No. But he never has," I explained. Was there a particular reason that she had only mentioned Fred? "Why?"

"Just curious," Mom said quickly. "He's been a good friend to you."

A small grin appeared on my face. I would always love the twins. They were some of my favorite people. "Yeah. Fred's the best. George, too," I added as a last minute thought. "They're kind of a package deal."

"Hmm... probably not with everything," Mom pointed out.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter," Mom said quickly. "Do you want help packing?"

"Sure. Where's Dad?"

"Out at the World Cup sight. He'll be back to see you off before you head to the Dursley's."

"Okay."

That was fine by me. I was glad to not have Dad around right now. At least with Mom here, I could tell her all about Cedric. She walked over and started helping me pack up the final few things that were still laying around the room as I told her all about my budding relationship with Cedric. I started back with the first few flirtations that we had had over the past few years, particularly those in my Second Year, to telling her about that first date in Hogsmeade and ultimately how my feelings for him had escalated from that little crush I'd formed in Madam Malkin's.

She had seemed absolutely fascinated about the entire relationship. She had clearly enjoyed the stories of the early stages of our relationship. All of those little flirtations that we had shared and the many times that I hadn't known what they meant. She obviously liked those moments when we had kept our relationship a secret from everyone. She liked the stories about the kisses that we had shared when no one else was watching. She had gotten a good laugh out of the fact that our relationship had come out when I had excitedly kissed him after winning the Quidditch Cup.

My mother even spent some time telling me about her own escapades during her days in Hogwarts. Apparently, she had been quite the little rebel. Unlike me, she rarely got caught when she had gone out breaking the rules. Just like with my own time at Hogwarts, she apparently really liked sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet up with boyfriends - my own father, at least. Which was kind of gross but kind of funny at the same time. Turned out that they also had a fondness for the Astronomy Tower. We had both laughed long and hard over that one.

We both seemed to have such a wonderful time talking together. It was the first time in a long time that I felt like I didn't have to hide anything from her. We just got to chat back and forth about the things that I had always wanted to talk to her about. Everything with Cedric. The things that confused me about him and the things that I was thrilled with about our relationship. Just before noon, after we had finished packing, I was slightly surprised to see Rusty float in through my window. I smiled as the owl landed on my lap.

"Whose owl is that?" Mom asked curiously.

"Cedric's," I answered.

The grin turned up on her mouth. She clearly thought that the whole relationship was adorable. "Ah," she said, standing from the edge of the bed. "I'll be downstairs if you need me."

"Okay." She was halfway towards the door when I called her back. "Mom? Thanks, seriously."

She smiled. "You're welcome, Tara."

Once she was gone, I turned to Rusty. "Thank you, Rusty."

The owl hooted at me for a few moments. I had always liked Rusty. He seemed so happy for an owl. I pulled Rusty over towards Dai's cage and let him hop inside. Rusty was one of the few owls that Dai tolerated - Hedwig and Hale being the other two. I grabbed the letter from Rusty and slit it open. I perched myself on the edge of the chair at my desk and unfolded it. Cedric's letters were traditionally very long and detailed. To my surprise, this one was only a few lines long. I began reading over it with a smile.

Tara,

I really do hope that this reaches you and not your parents. Especially not while you're around them. I just wanted to tell you that Dad and I are getting ready to head to the Quidditch World Cup tomorrow. You're still being allowed to go, aren't you?

In the event that I don't get to talk to you before we actually get settled, there's a water spigot not far from where the tents are. If you can, meet me there at midnight.

You bad influence.

Cedric.

Needless to say, a broad grin appeared on my face. I was thrilled to see that Cedric had written me a letter. Honestly, I hadn't been expecting him to speak to me until we returned to Hogwarts - or if I was lucky and ran into him at the Quidditch World Cup. He was taking a massive risk even writing me the letter. If Mom hadn't forgiven me for the lie, she would have taken the letter and probably burned it. If Dad had seen it, he would have lost his mind. I would have to make sure that the letter was locked away somewhere that he couldn't potentially find it.

It had been two days since I had last spoken to Cedric. It might have seemed a little silly, but after being with him almost constantly over the summer, I really missed speaking to him. So I read over the letter two or three times. His last comment was the one that kept making me smile. When it came down to it, I supposed that I really was a bad influence on him. I was probably a bad influence on everyone. And that was part of what made our relationship as fun as it was. I pulled out a blank piece of parchment and wrote my response quickly.

Cedric,

No worries. Dad's at the World Cup already. The Weasley's are coming to get Harry and me in a few hours and we'll head to the Cup in the morning. My parents will be there but I can manage to slip away for a little while. I'll be there at midnight. We've got a lot to talk about, anyway.

You're right, I am a bad influence. But that's what makes me fun, right?

See you tomorrow,  
Tara.

A midnight rendezvous with Cedric. Those were my favorite kinds of rendezvous. At least, when it came to meeting up with him. Hopefully, I would be able to sneak out of the tent to meet up with him. The good thing was that I was staying with the Weasley's at night. My parents wouldn't even be around there. As long as the twins didn't overhear me leaving in the middle of the night, I would be just fine. Even if they did run into me on the way out, I could either lie to them and say I was just thirsty or bribe them into leaving me alone.

Perhaps I would be able to get away with this. I folded the letter with my answer up and handed it back to Rusty. I had to send him off before Dad came back. He knew Rusty. It would just make things terrible all over again. As Rusty fluttered off through the window, I found myself tingling with excitement at the thought of seeing Cedric alone again. It was something I was so looking forward to. There was a part of me that loved the thrill of sneaking around with him and potentially getting caught. I supposed that it was the Gryffindor in me.

In the next five minutes, I had packed up the final things in my room and was ready to leave. I tossed Cedric's Hufflepuff scarf on the top of my trunk before closing it and moving it into the corner of my room. There was a broad smile on my face and it was for multiple things. Heading to the Burrow, the eventual Quidditch World Cup, and meeting up with Cedric tomorrow night. I couldn't wait for any of it. After feeling like a complete moron for the past two days, I was thrilled for things to start looking up again.

"Tara!" Mom's voice floated from downstairs.

"Yeah?" I called back.

"Got all your things packed?" Mom asked.

"Got them! They're sitting in the corner of my room!" I shouted down to her.

"Wonderful," Mom chirped.

Grabbing the last few things that I needed for the day, I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and pulled on some sneakers. There wasn't much that I needed from the house for the night. Plus I knew that we would be waking up early in the morning. All I was planning on doing was changing into my new clothes and trying not to fall onto my ass as we headed out to the World Cup. Pulling my backpack into my hands, I turned on my heel and left the room, heading towards the stairs and bounding down them. Mom and Dad were waiting for me downstairs.

"We'll make sure to grab everything when we head to the Burrow in the morning," Mom said as I walked into the living room.

"Okay," I said.

"Going to Harry's?" Dad asked, eyeing my bag.

Mom and I exchanged a look and smiled at each other. I trusted her to talk to him. "Yeah. We're going to wait there for the Weasley's to come. It should be fun," I said somewhat blankly. "How's the Cup coming along?"

"It's coming. Starting to look like we might actually be able to put everything together in time. You'll love it, you know," Dad said kindly.

"Oh, I'm sure I will," I said.

"We'll all have a good time," Mom put in.

Things would be awkward between us for a while, but we would manage. "Yeah," I muttered.

"Have fun with the Weasley's, darling," Mom said, dismissing me from their presence.

"Oh, I'm sure that I will. I'll tell everyone that you two said hello," I called back.

"Thanks. We'll be at the Burrow by the time that you're ready to leave in the morning," Mom told me.

"Awesome. See you tomorrow, guys," I chirped.

"See you tomorrow, love," Mom said.

"Bye, kiddo. Behave yourself," Dad warned.

Of course... He must have still been convinced that I was going to try and find Cedric and spend some time with him. Which ultimately wasn't a lie. I grabbed my overnight things in a bag sitting against the door and threw it on over my shoulders, darting from the house, a broad grin spread over my face. I was so excited about the World Cup. I made my way across my own lawn and into the Dursley's, knowing that they would hate me stepping on their perfectly-manicured grass. I walked up to their door and knocked. Vermin growled when he opened it and realized that it was me.

"He's upstairs," Vermin said.

His own pleasant way of greeting me. "Figured," I deadpanned.

"I expect complete silence!" Vermin warned.

"Yeah, yeah. We'll be quiet," I growled.

He was really the biggest pain in the ass. We had no intention of being loud and annoying. We were just trying to keep ourselves out of trouble until we got the Burrow. So, I walked through the house, spotting Horse-Face and Dudley. While Horse-Face appeared to be cleaning every nook and cranny (probably to impress the Weasley's), Dudley seemed to be terrified. I rolled my eyes at the Dursley's fear of the Weasley's and headed upstairs and into Harry's room. At least we would be able to laugh at their fear together.

As I walked into his room, Harry perked up. He appeared to be in the midst of packing. "Hi," I chirped.

"Hey!" Harry grinned, jumping to his feet and meeting me in a hug. "You're here already?"

"Sure am! I was getting bored sitting at home," I said honestly.

"Are your parents at home?" Harry asked curiously.

"Mom's still at home but she's heading out to the World Cup with Dad soon. Dad's already been there; I think he got there pretty early this morning. He came back long enough to say goodbye and warn me to be careful. I guess they're both going to be heading out soon. They'll meet up with us on the way tomorrow," I explained.

"You ready for that?" Harry asked curiously.

To try and dodge my parents while meeting up with Cedric? Just another day in my life. "Yeah. I'll be ready to potentially slip away," I joked.

Harry's eyebrow raised. "You sure that's a good idea?"

"I'm well aware that it's not a good idea," I said honestly. If I managed to get caught on my midnight rendezvous, I'd really be in for it. "Let's move on to something else, shall we?" Harry rolled his eyes. "What time did you start packing?"

It looked like he'd barely started. "A few hours ago," Harry answered vaguely.

We both knew that it meant he had just barely started. "Want some help?" I offered.

"I'd love it," Harry said happily.

There was no doubt in my mind that this was the happiest part of Harry's summer vacation. Getting to pack up and get ready to start Hogwarts again. It was also one of my favorite times of the year. I couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts for another year of mayhem and mischief. Even though Harry and I couldn't use magic, we made a game out of packing. Throwing things across the room and into the trunks. It made for good Quidditch practice since we couldn't really use our brooms in the middle of the almost entirely Muggle community.

Within a few minutes, we were having an excellent time. It was needless to say that we were much happier here than the Dursley's were downstairs. They were biting their fingernails in distress at having an entire, and quite large, magical family in their living room. We were both thrilled to be getting to go to the Quidditch World Cup - which meant getting away from our families a few weeks early. Harry had always enjoyed getting away from the Dursley's. While I usually liked my parents, I was sick of their overbearing attitudes. Mostly Dad's, with the entire Cedric debacle.

By twelve o'clock that afternoon, Harry's school trunk was packed with his school things and all his most prized possessions - the Invisibility Cloak he had inherited from his father, the broomstick he had gotten from Sirius, and the enchanted map of Hogwarts he had been given by Fred and George Weasley last year. The Marauder's Map - which Dad would freak out about if he knew that we had it. He likely still thought that Filch had it in his office and was still fighting to learn how it worked. We had been forced to jam everything into his trunk since he seemed to be acquiring more things with each year.

The two of us had emptied his hiding place under the loose floorboard of all food, double checked every nook and cranny of his bedroom for forgotten spell books or quills, and taken down the chart on the wall counting down the days to September the first, on which he liked to cross off the days remaining until his return to Hogwarts. We spent some time eating the remaining food since it would spoil by the time that we were ready to return to Hogwarts. At least, when we got to the Burrow, Harry wouldn't have to worry about only getting a grapefruit for breakfast.

Since I did have some things with me for the overnight stay in the Burrow, Harry had been nice enough to allow me to keep some of my things with his own trunk. Once we were completely packed - and had checked three times to see if we'd missed anything - we debated on heading downstairs. But things were too awkward and we ultimately decided to stay upstairs. Neither one of us really wanted to be around the Dursley's for the next few hours with their scowls and nervous ticks. I just wanted to see the looks on their faces when they saw how the Floo network functioned.

Even being hidden away upstairs, I could still tell that the atmosphere inside number four, Privet Drive was extremely tense. Perhaps it was because I could hear the muttering of the Dursley family downstairs. The imminent arrival at their house of an assortment of wizards was making the Dursley's uptight and irritable. Last night had been one of the most amusing times of my life since I always liked seeing Vermin flustered. Harry's uncle had looked downright alarmed when Harry informed him that the Weasley's would be arriving at five o'clock the very next day.

"I hope you told them to dress properly, these people. I've seen the sort of stuff your lot wear. They'd better have the decency to put on normal clothes, that's all," Vermin had snarled at once.

The two of us had exchanged a look with each other and I knew that Harry had felt a slight sense of foreboding. Neither one of us had ever seen Mr. or Mrs. Weasley wearing anything that the Dursley's would call 'normal.' Their children might don Muggle clothing during the holidays, but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley usually wore long robes in varying states of shabbiness. Of course, we weren't bothered about what the neighbors would think, but we were both anxious about how rude the Dursley's might be to the Weasley's if they turned up looking like their worst idea of wizards.

"Do you think that they'll wear Muggle clothes?" Harry asked, obviously thinking the same thing that I was.

"Probably not. I don't think that Mr. or Mrs. Weasley own Muggle clothes," I answered.

Even from the first time that I had met the Weasley's, I had never really seen them wear Muggle clothes. The kids tended to wear Muggle clothes at almost all times. But Mr. and Mrs. Weasley normally had on some type of reddish robe. There was no doubt in my mind that the Dursley's would be infuriated with what the Weasley's were wearing. Perhaps Fred and George would wear normal clothes, but they weren't really the ones that the Dursley's would be focused on. I couldn't help but wonder if Horse-Face had ever met the Weasley's. After all, her sister had been their friend.

"They'll lose it," Harry finally said.

"Yeah, probably."

"Might be kind of funny."

The edges of my lips turned up in a smile. It would definitely be my entertainment for the day. "It's going to be hilarious. Should we go downstairs and see what's going on?" I offered.

Not that I wanted to go downstairs, but I was mildly curious. "Yeah. Let's check it out."

Harry and I closed up all of his things before turning and heading downstairs. The entire Dursley family were sitting in stone cold silence. They already looked somewhere between petrified and fascinated. Vermin had put on his best suit. To some people, this might have looked like a gesture of welcome, but Harry and I both knew it was because Vermin wanted to look impressive and intimidating. Not that Mr. Weasley would care. Honestly, he would probably think the way that Vermin was dressed was rather strange. It made me smile.

Dudley, on the other hand, looked somehow diminished. This was not because the diet was at last taking effect, but due to fright. Dudley had emerged from his last encounter with a fully-grown wizard with a curly pig's tail poking out of the seat of his trousers, and Horse-Face and Vermin had apparently had to pay for its removal at a private hospital in London. Another thing I would have to thank Hagrid for. It wasn’t altogether surprising, therefore, that Dudley kept running his hand nervously over his backside, and walking sideways from room to room, so as not to present the same target to the enemy.

Much to their dismay, the Dursley's ended up inviting me to stay for lunch. Not that I really wanted any. But I didn't want any trouble yet so I stayed and ate. Lunch was an almost silent meal. Harry and I sat right next to each other but didn't dare speak and shatter the tense silence. Dudley didn't even protest at the food (cottage cheese and grated celery). Horse-Face wasn't eating anything at all. Her arms were folded, her lips were pursed, and she seemed to be chewing her tongue, as though biting back the furious diatribe she longed to throw at Harry. Perhaps this all brought back terrible memories of her sister.

"They'll be driving, of course?" Vermin barked suddenly across the table.

"Er," Harry answered dumbly.

Knowing that I should have said something, I decided to let Harry fend for himself. It might be rather funny to let them think that the Weasley's were going to come in a car. Obviously, Harry hadn't thought of that. How would the Weasley's pick the two of us up, if not by Floo? It wasn't like they understood the Underground. They didn't have a car anymore; the old Ford Anglia they had once owned was currently running wild in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts. But Mr. Weasley had borrowed a Ministry of Magic car last year; possibly he would do the same today to avoid frightening the Dursley's?

Wouldn't that have been disappointing? "I think so," Harry said.

Vermin snorted into his mustache. I clenched my fists slightly. The Weasley's might have been a poor family, but they were absolutely wonderful and were better than the Dursley's in every single way. I could see Harry tensing up the same way that I was. Normally, Vermin would have asked what car Mr. Weasley drove; he tended to judge other men by how big and expensive their cars were. I had a feeling that one day Dad might buy a BMW just to prove to Vermin that he could. Either way, I doubted whether Vermin would have taken to Mr. Weasley even if he drove a Ferrari.

Deciding that I might as well talk about magic while we were allowed, I said, "They might Apparate."

A small grin appeared on Harry's face. Horse-Face paled nervously. Dudley shifted in his seat. Vermin whipped towards me with a venomous stare. "What's that rubbish?" Vermin snapped.

"Appearing in a place," I explained.

Vermin's face fell. "They most certainly will not be doing that!"

"They could also be taking the Floo network," I offered again.

"What the bloody hell is that?" Vermin asked.

"Traveling by -"

"Enough!" Horse-Face shrieked, speaking for the first time that afternoon.

She must have remembered all of the things that Lily had told her or her parents when they had been kids. This must have brought back some genuinely terrible memories for her. Not that I cared. This was payback for all of the years that she had spent terrorizing Harry, her own nephew. The rest of lunch was eaten in complete silence, Harry and I sending each other little glances every now and again. Once it was over, we all took our seats scattered around the living room but the tense air didn't lift. If anything, it only got worse the closer that we got to five o'clock.

Harry and I ended up spending most of the afternoon in his bedroom; neither one of us could stand watching Horse-Face peer out through the net curtains every few seconds, as though there had been a warning about an escaped rhinoceros. I ended up running back to my house to grab the cell phone that I had left in the drawer. No one was home. They must have already gone to the Cup. By the time that I got back to Harry's bedroom, the two of us stared down at the phone, desperate to call Fred and George. I wanted to at least be able to talk to them until they came.

Sitting here was making me far too antsy. Passing the time was next to impossible. We couldn't play Exploding Snap without breaking the law on underage wizardry. Plus the Dursley's would hear and lose it. Reading was boring and we didn't even have the new spellbooks to study with yet. We were both fully packed. There was nothing to do other than sit together on his bed and talk, hoping to keep ourselves distracted and from watching the clock. It was harder than it had ever been. Especially as the clock seemed to slow the closer to five o'clock we got.

"I wonder if this is the first time that she's been around magical people since your mother..." I said awkwardly, trailing off at the end.

Lily would always be a sensitive topic. "It probably is," Harry said somewhat carelessly. "She must hate them."

"Either that or she's just nervous around them. Do you ever wonder if she got along with Lily?" I asked suddenly. Harry arched a brow. "Before finding out that she was a witch?"

Harry thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. "Doubt it. She's never even talked about my mother."

"I mean... they were still sisters. Wasn't she even slightly upset at the fact that she died because she was murdered in cold blood?" I asked curiously.

"If it's ever bothered her, she certainly didn't show it."

That was when I noticed the emotionless tone to his voice. "Sorry for bringing it up," I muttered awkwardly.

"It's okay." The two of us sat in silence for a while before Harry said, "Want to tell me about the two teams that are going to be at the World Cup?"

"Sure!" I chirped.

If there was one thing to keep me from getting too invested in watching the clock, it would be talking about the World Cup. It was easy to see just how excited Harry was. Having only seen school games prior to this, I knew that he would be astounded. We had some really good players on the school team - the two of us being some of them - but even we were nothing compared to all of the professional players who would be at the Cup. Although I would never admit out loud that we weren't even halfway o the point that they were. I was too proud for that.

Instead, I spent a long time telling Harry about the two teams we would be watching. I told him all about how Bulgaria almost always wore scarlet robes and how, this time, they would no longer be riding Cleansweep Eleven's, which they had been riding for as long as I could remember. Instead, they would now be on Firebolts, just like Harry and I played on. I had mentioned that I was looking forward to Ireland's play. They were always a lot more fun to watch. They played dirty and tended to get pretty big heads whenever they won - a habit that I had, too.

The more that I told him about the World Cup, the more excited that he seemed to be getting. He even asked me about the last World Cup that I had been to. In fact, I had only been to one before. I had gone with Mom as Dad had played, just a few years before I'd met Harry officially. I giggled as I recounted Dad's gameplay - aggressive but winning. It was exactly where I had gotten my own attitude from the game. The Stars had blown Japan's team out of the water. Ever since there had been a nasty rivalry between the two. Harry promised to never root for Japan.

Finally, the time was nearly there. "Ready to go downstairs?" Harry offered.

"Yes," I said.

"Are your parents already gone?"

"They weren't there when I ran back to grab the phone, so I think so. Mom's at the Ministry and Dad should be at the World Cup already," I explained. "Too bad because it would have been kind of funny to have them all together around the Weasley's."

Harry snorted in amusement as I grinned at him. It really would have been funny to see the Dursley's completely outnumbered by magical beings in their own living room. Perhaps something for another day. In the meantime, we just needed to get the Weasley's here and get out before things could get any more awkward. When we could no longer wait impatiently in Harry's bedroom, finally, at a quarter to five, the two of us went back downstairs and into the living room. Within seconds I wished that we were back upstairs.

Horse-Face was compulsively straightening cushions. Not that she really wanted the house to look spotless. I doubted that she really cared. Either Vermin was making her do it or she was looking for something to do with her hands - other than strangling Harry and me for inviting wizards into their home. On the other hand, Vermin was pretending to read the paper, but his tiny eyes were not moving, and I was sure he was really listening with all his might for the sound of an approaching car. He might as well have been sitting by the window and watching for their arrival.

The most amusing of all was Dudley. Despite his good advice to me yesterday, it still didn't make up all of the awful things that he had done to Harry over the years. Hence why his terror brought a slight grin to my face. Dudley was crammed into an armchair, his porky hands beneath him, clamped firmly around his bottom. If only Hagrid was coming with the Weasley's... Harry and I ultimately couldn't take the tension; the two of us left the room and went and sat on the stairs in the hall, our eyes on his watch and our hearts pumping fast from excitement and nerves.

My Muggle cell phone was clasped tightly in my hands. Maybe Fred and George would give me a call before they actually arrived to give us a fair warning. But it remained as silent as ever. My eyes remained firmly locked on Harry's watch as I saw the seconds tick by. Much to my horror, five o'clock came and then went. Vermin, perspiring slightly in his suit, opened the front door, peered up and down the street, then withdrew his head quickly. I rolled my eyes. It was five o'clock on the date. They could give them a few minutes to get here. They didn't know this part of Surrey, anyways.

"They're late!" Vermin snarled at us.

"I know. Maybe - er - the traffic's bad, or something," Harry said.

"There's a lot of kids in the family. Something might have popped up," I put in helpfully.

Chances were that someone had likely forgotten something or didn't realize what time it was. Vermin snorted ungracefully. "Too many kids, if you ask me," he said.

"We weren't," I growled fiercely.

I absolutely despised hearing anyone badmouth the Weasley's. "Do you know where they are?" Harry asked worriedly.

"Nope. But knowing the Weasley's, something popped up. You know how many kids there are in that family. They're probably taking forever to get ready. You know how long it took us to get to King's Cross in Second Year," I said, placing a hand over Harry's arm comfortingly.

"Yeah..." Harry mumbled.

"They didn't forget about us, Harry. I just talked to Fred and George this morning."

"What'd they say?"

"That we'd see them later."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "It'd be worse if you weren't here," he said.

It wasn't hard to imagine how panicked Harry would be if he were stuck here alone. "Oh, I know how sad you'd be without me," I teased. Harry laughed as I pulled the cell phone out of my pocket. "Let me see if they answer."

If there was one way to make either one of us feel the slightest bit better, it was to call the twins and make sure that they really were on their way. Maybe they ended up doing something other than the Floo network. Perhaps they had ended up driving and were having a hard time finding the house. I walked a few steps away from Harry and pulled up the twins' number, dialing it instantly. It rang a few times before going straight to voicemail. I furrowed my brow as I tucked the phone back in my pocket. The twins never ignored or missed one of my calls. Was something wrong?

Harry perked up as I walked back. "Anything?"

"No answer," I said. Harry's face paled. "Don't panic, I'm sure the twins are blowing something up."

We both laughed at the very true statement. The twins were always blowing something up - even Hogwarts toilets. But that happy air didn't last for very long. Ten past five... then a quarter past five... The later it got, the more nervous I got. Mom and Dad could still take us, just in case, but I hated hearing the Dursley's muttering about us. Exchanging a glance with Harry, I could tell that he, too, was starting to feel anxious now. I had been expecting a few minutes' delays. Not this much. At half past, we heard Vermin and Horse-Face conversing in terse mutters in the living room.

"No consideration at all."

"We might've had an engagement."

"Maybe they think they'll get invited to dinner if they're late."

"Well, they most certainly won't be," Vermin, and I heard him stand up and start pacing the living room. "They'll take the two of them and go, there'll be no hanging around. That's if they're coming at all. Probably mistaken the day. I daresay their kind don't set much store by punctuality. Either that or they drive some tin-pot car that's broken d - AAAAAAAARRRRRGH!"

Their scream was enough to instantly alert Harry and me that something was wrong. I reached for my wand before realizing that it wasn't there. I supposed that it was a good thing that I didn't have one anyways. Harry and I jumped up in surprise. From the other side of the living room door came the sounds of the three Dursley's scrambling, panic-stricken, across the room. What the hell was happening out in the living room? Everything was stone-cold silent just a few seconds ago. Next moment Dudley came flying into the hall, looking terrified.

"What was that?" Harry asked; either me or Dudley, I couldn't tell.

Dudley wasn't answering. "No idea. Come on!" Harry yelped.

"What happened? What’s the matter?" Harry asked Dudley again.

But Dudley didn't seem able to speak. Even when I laid a hand on his shoulder to try and calm him down, he still looked like he was about to lose it. Perhaps it was the wrong time to try and speak with him. Hands still clamped over his buttocks, Dudley waddled as fast as he could into the kitchen. Harry and I stared at each other again. Whatever it was didn't seem dangerous. More surprising than anything else, I guessed. Still unaware of what was happening, Harry and I hurried into the living room. A massive grin immediately broke over my face.

"Oh... I forgot about that," I whispered, giggling.

"What?" Harry asked, stupefied.

"Look," I said.

Harry followed my finger to where I was pointing to their fireplace. Fred and George were telling the truth. They were coming through the Floo network. The only problem was, I had forgotten about what was in front of the Dursley's fireplace. Loud hangings and scrapings were coming from behind the Dursley's boarded-up fireplace, which had a fake coal fire plugged in front of it. I really should have told the Weasley's to come through my own fireplace, which wasn't boarded up with some cheesy fake fire, but this was much more amusing.

"What is it?" Horse-Face gasped, who had backed into the wall and was staring, terrified, toward the fire. "What is it, Vernon?"

Honestly, she was more likely to know what was happening than he was. Harry stared at me for a moment and I nodded. Clearly, he was beginning to understand exactly what had happened. This was definitely not something that I was planning on letting any of them live down any time soon. Not after the relentless teasing over Cedric and I's relationship[. I prepared to explain what was going on to the Dursley's, but we were left in doubt barely a second longer. Voices could be heard from inside the blocked fireplace.

"Ouch! Fred, no - go back, go back, there's been some kind of mistake - tell George not to - OUCH! George, no, there's no room, go back quickly and tell Ron -"

"Maybe Harry can hear us, Dad - maybe he'll be able to let us out -"

It sounded like Mr. Weasley and Fred were in there so far. Who else was planning on coming through? For a moment I hoped that they were all planning on coming. I would have liked to see just how many people we could fit inside the relatively small fireplace. There was a sudden loud hammering of fists on the boards behind the electric fire. My hand instantly clapped itself to my mouth. I wanted to see how long we could keep this going. I was particularly enjoying getting to see the baffled and horrified looks that Vermin and Horse-Face were wearing.

Unfortunately, I could only wear a straight face for so long. The moment that Harry and I locked eyes, we both began laughing hysterically. The glare from the Dursley's was the only thing that kept us from laughing even more. I had known that the Weasley's were planning on coming through the Floo network (despite my fears that they had changed plans) but I really had forgotten that their fireplace was boarded up. I never bothered looking at it before today. I had really just thought that they would get scared by the monstrous green flames.

"Harry? Tara? Harry, can you hear us?"

That one sounded like Mr. Weasley again. It was very hard to keep myself from collapsing to the floor in a fit of giggles. I had never seen someone actually get stuck in a fireplace. Harry and I glanced at each other and grinned again. This was definitely not something that any of the Weasley's would be living down anytime soon. Not if Harry and I could help it. The Dursley's rounded on Harry and I like a pair of angry wolverines. It was the fastest that I had ever seen either one of them move.

"What is this? What’s going on?" Vermin growled.

"They - they've tried to get here by Floo powder," Harry explained, obviously fighting a mad desire to laugh. "They can travel by fire - only you've blocked the fireplace - hang on -"

"It allows them to travel almost immediately to another place. Think like the transporters in Star Trek," I further explained.

"Why would they do that?" Vermin hissed.

"It's faster," I reasoned.

Because not everyone is a bigot who's afraid of anything that he doesn't understand. The two of us glared at each other as I turned back to the fireplace. As much as I wanted to let this charade go on a little longer, I knew that the right thing to do was to tell them that we were here and would manage to get them out as quickly as possible. So, Harry and I approached the fireplace and Harry called through the boards.

"Mr. Weasley? Can you hear me?"

The hammering stopped. Somebody inside the chimney-piece said, "Shh!"

"Mr. Weasley, it's Harry... the fireplace has been blocked up. You won’t be able to get through there."

"Damn!" Mr. Weasley's voice came angrily. "What on earth did they want to block up the fireplace for?"

"They've got an electric fire," Harry explained.

"Really?" Mr. Weasley's voice asked excitedly. "Eclectic, you say? With a plug? Gracious, I must see that..."

"Electric, Mr. Weasley," I corrected.

"Right," Mr. Weasley said, humming through the wood. "Let's think... ouch, Ron!"

"This is brilliant, boys," I cackled happily.

"Tara?" Fred's voice came.

"Hello, Freddie. Having a good time?" I teased.

"Yes, Tara. I'm having a marvelous time stuck in the fireplace," Fred growled back.

"Well, I'm certainly having a marvelous time," I chuckled.

A little thump came from where I imagined Fred had just punched the stone. "Just wait until we get back to the Burrow! You'd best watch yourself when you go to bed," Fred barked.

"Oh, scary coming from the man stuck in the fireplace," I teased.

Harry laughed as Ron's voice now joined the others'. "What are we doing here? Has something gone wrong?"

"Oh no, Ron," Fred's voice came, very sarcastically. "No, this is exactly where we wanted to end up."

"Yeah, we're having the time of our lives here," George said, whose voice sounded muffled, as though he was squashed against the wall.

"Boys, boys..." Mr. Weasley said vaguely. "I'm trying to think what to do... Yes... only way... Stand back, you two."

Things were slowly getting even better and better. The Weasley's were clearly going to have to blast away the electric fireplace so that they could get into the house. Even though it would be an incredibly easy fix for Mr. Weasley, there was no way that Vermin or Horse-Face would be okay with what was sure to be a brief state of disaster in their living room. Harry grabbed onto my hand and pulled me along so that we had retreated to the sofa. I watched with a quirked brow as Vermin, however, moved forward.

"Wait a moment!" Vermin bellowed at the fire.

"I would suggest you back away," I offered quietly.

Vermin glared at me before saying, "What exactly are you going to -"

He never got to finish. An earsplitting bang interrupted him. The electric fire shot across the room as the boarded-up fireplace burst outward, expelling Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ron in a cloud of rubble and loose chippings. Harry and I ducked to narrowly avoid getting hit by the flying wood. Horse-Face shrieked and fell backward over the coffee table; Vermin caught her before she hit the floor, and gaped, speechless, at the Weasley's, all of whom had bright red hair, including Fred and George, who were identical to the last freckle.

A barking laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "That's better," Mr. Weasley panted, brushing the dust from his long green robes and straightening his glasses.

Fred, George, and Ron began sitting upright. "Hello, boys," I greeted dully.

Fred was the first to meet my eyes. "Ah -"

"Tara -"

Nope. I recognized the look in the twins' eyes, having known them long enough. I backed away from them. "Stay away from me until you take a shower!" I shouted.

"Ah - you must be Harry's aunt and uncle!" Mr. Weasley's voice interrupted us.

The twins stopped advancing on me as I turned to see what else was happening. Tall, thin, and balding, Mr. Weasley moved toward Vermin, his hand outstretched, but Vermin backed away several paces, dragging Horse-Face. I rolled my eyes. It was just an accident. They would be able to fix the fireplace. The Dursley's really needed to learn to get a sense of humor about things. Words seemed to have utterly failed Vermin. His best suit was covered in white dust, which had settled in his hair and mustache and made him look as though he had just aged thirty years.

"Er - yes - sorry about that," Mr. Weasley said, lowering his hand and looking over his shoulder at the blasted fireplace. "It's all my fault. It just didn't occur to me that we wouldn't be able to get out at the other end. I had your fireplace connected to the Floo Network, you see - just for an afternoon, you know, so we could get Harry and Tara. Muggle fireplaces aren't supposed to be connected, strictly speaking - but I've got a useful contact at the Floo Regulation Panel and he fixed it for me. I can put it right in a jiffy, though, don’t worry. I'll light a fire to send the kids back, and then I can repair your fireplace before I Disapparate."

My eyebrow raised in surprise. "I didn't know that Muggles fireplaces were cut off from the Floo network?" I half-asked and half-said to Mr. Weasley.

Mr. Weasley turned towards me and nodded. "Oh, of course. We can't have witches and wizards getting spit out in random Muggles' fireplaces all over the world," Mr. Weasley pointed. I nodded in understanding. I guessed that made perfect sense. "The Obliviators would never have a free moment."

"That makes sense. I guess Little Hangleton must still have some witches and wizards there," I muttered.

"Pardon?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Nothing," I said quickly.

Harry shot me a look as Fred and George quickly appeared at my sides. "What are you hiding?" Fred sang.

"Nothing," I repeated.

"Come on, Tara. Tell us," George prodded.

"There's nothing to tell," I snapped.

The two of them didn't look convinced, but I was hoping that they would let it go for now. That would be a conversation for another time. Sensing that the twins would let it slip for now, I turned back towards the rest of the family. I was ready to bet that the Dursley's hadn't understood a single word of what Mr. Weasley had just told them. They didn't care enough to ask Harry or me what things were like in the Wizarding World. The Dursley's were still gaping at Mr. Weasley, thunderstruck. Horse-Face staggered upright again and hid behind Vermin.

"Hello, Harry! Hello, Tara!" Mr. Weasley finally greeted brightly.

"Hi, Mr. Weasley," I giggled.

"Got your trunk ready?" Mr. Weasley asked Harry.

"It's upstairs," Harry said, grinning back at Mr. Weasley.

"Marcus and Julia bringing your things later, Tara?" Mr. Weasley asked me.

"Yep! I've just got a bag with my things. They're upstairs in Harry's room," I explained.

"We'll get it," Fred said at once. As he walked towards the staircase, he stopped in front of me. I narrowed my gaze at him. "Want to come show me to the bedroom?"

He waggled his eyebrows playfully at me. "Get out," I snapped, shoving his chest.

George, Harry, and Ron laughed as Mr. Weasley glared at his son. Fred held a hand over his chest in mock hurt. "Don't be rude, Tara. Just being friendly," Fred teased.

"Oh, yes. You're quite friendly," I groaned.

Fred threw his arm over my shoulder, practically keeping me glued to his side. "Only for you, love."

"Go away, Freddie," I snapped.

George grabbed his twin and shoved him off of me, taking his place. "Exactly, Freddie. She likes me much more than you," George told his brother.

"So true," I added, wrapping an arm around George's waist.

"Hey!" Fred barked indignantly.

"Go, boys," Mr. Weasley warned them.

The sooner we got out of here, the better. We could all mess with each other back at the Burrow. Winking at Harry and I, Fred and George left the room. They knew where Harry's bedroom was, having once rescued him from it in the dead of night with my assistance. Vermin and Horse-Face looked terrified as the twins headed upstairs, probably wondering how they knew just where to go. As I looked at Harry, the two of us started laughing again. I suspected that Fred and George were hoping for a glimpse of Dudley; they had heard a lot about him from Harry.

"Well," Mr. Weasley chirped, swinging his arms slightly, while he tried to find words to break the very nasty silence. "Very - um - a very nice place you've got here."

Another grin appeared on my face. It was rather amusing to see just how awkward their official meeting was. Not just long distance glares as usual. As the usually spotless living room was now covered in dust and bits of brick, Mr. Weasley's remark didn't go down too well with the Dursley's. Vermin's face turned purple once more, and Horse-Face started chewing her tongue again. Neither one of them looked even slightly pleased with the turn of events. However, they seemed too scared to actually say anything.

Mr. Weasley was looking around curiously. I had a feeling that he wanted to run back and forth and start looking at everything. He must have been fascinated to be in a real Muggle home with nothing even remotely magical - save the trunk and bag in Harry's bedroom. Mr. Weasley loved everything to do with Muggles. He worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts in the Ministry of Magic and very much loved his job. I could see him itching to go and examine the television and the video recorder.

"They run off eckeltricity, do they?" Mr. Weasley asked knowledgeably.

"Electricity, Mr. Weasley," I repeated from earlier.

"Oh. Of course. Ah yes, I can see the plugs. I collect plugs," Mr. Weasley added kindly to Vermin. "And batteries. Got a very large collection of batteries. My wife thinks I'm mad, but there you are."

Vermin clearly thought Mr. Weasley was mad too. It was very hard to keep me from laughing. The look on the Dursley's faces was nothing short of horrified. They clearly hated him and all of his children. But they were definitely too scared to actually say anything about their distaste of the Weasley's to their faces. Vermin moved ever so slightly to the right, screening Horse-Face from view, as though he thought Mr. Weasley might suddenly run at them and attack. I snorted under my breath, faking a cough.

Dudley suddenly reappeared in the room. I glanced up curiously, wondering what had drawn him out. That was when I could hear the clunk of Harry's trunk on the stairs and knew that the sounds had scared Dudley out of the kitchen. Dudley edged along the wall, gazing at Mr. Weasley with terrified eyes, and attempted to conceal himself behind his mother and father. Unfortunately, Vermin's bulk, while sufficient to hide bony Horse-Face, was nowhere near enough to conceal Dudley.

"Ah, this is your cousin, is it, Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked, taking another brave stab at making conversation.

"Yep, that’s Dudley," Harry said.

Harry, Ron, and I exchanged glances and then quickly looked away from each other; the temptation to burst out laughing was almost overwhelming. Dudley was still clutching his bottom as though afraid it might fall off. Mr. Weasley, however, seemed genuinely concerned at Dudley’s peculiar behavior. Indeed, from the tone of his voice when he next spoke, I was quite sure that Mr. Weasley thought Dudley was quite as mad as the Dursley's thought he was, except that Mr. Weasley felt sympathy rather than fear.

"Having a good holiday, Dudley?" Mr. Weasley asked kindly.

Dudley whimpered in fear. Dudley might have said a few nice things to me and had always been much nicer to me than he had to Harry, but that didn't change the fact that he had always been a bully. Perhaps this would finally trigger something in him. Maybe he would grow up and start being nicer to his cousin, who had never really been mean to him before. Much to both my amusement and Harry's, we saw Dudley's hands tighten still harder over his massive backside.

It took me only a moment to realize what he was afraid for. Fred and George came back into the room carrying Harry's school trunk. Of course. They always had that look about them that warned someone to run from them before they could hurt you in a playful way. Dudley must have been terrified of them. The twins glanced around as they entered and spotted Dudley. He was very obviously Harry's cousin. No one else would have matched his description. Fred and George's faces cracked into identical evil grins.

"Ah, right. Better get cracking then," Mr. Weasley said.

As the twins took their spots at my side, I narrowed my eyes at them. "That's a dangerous look," I whispered.

"No. We would never," Fred said, affronted.

"We're on our best behavior. We already made a promise," George added.

No way. There was no way that they were planning on leaving Harry's house without doing something to his family. Perhaps not Vermin or Hose-Face. They were terrified enough from the fireplace explosion earlier. Right now, I was sure that it was Dudley who they were planning on attacking. The question just remained, what were they going to do to him? Mr. Weasley pushed up the sleeves of his robes and took out his wand. Once more, I saw the Dursley's draw back against the wall as one.

"Incendio!" Mr. Weasley cried, pointing his wand at the hole in the wall behind him.

Flames rose at once in the fireplace, crackling merrily as though they had been burning for hours. They were still red but they would be green within seconds. I could see the Dursley's staring at their fireplace in fear. Mr. Weasley took a small drawstring bag from his pocket, untied it, took a pinch of the powder inside, and threw it onto the flames, which turned emerald green and roared higher than ever. The Dursley's looked absolutely terrified and more than a little happy to get the Weasley's and us out of their house.

"Off you go then, Fred," Mr. Weasley said.

"Coming," Fred said.

But he lingered by my side for a moment. "If you ask me if I want to share a fireplace, I'll kill you," I snapped.

That was his go-to comment whenever we traveled by Floo powder together. "Actually I'd very much like you to be the last one through," Fred said, grinning madly.

"Why?" I asked curiously.

"You'll see," Fred said playfully, moving towards the fireplace. "Oh no - hang on -"

My eyebrow quirked. What the hell were the twins planning? Something magnificent, I was sure. Just as I had expected, a bag of sweets had spilled out of Fred's pocket and the contents were now rolling in every direction - big, fat toffees in brightly colored wrappers. My jaw dropped as I watched the turn of events. Were those what I thought they were? Fred scrambled around, cramming them back into his pocket, then gave the Dursley's a cheery wave, stepped forward, and walked right into the fire. He turned and gave me a little wink.

"The Burrow!" Fred cried.

"Oh no..." I whispered.

Where was the one that he had left? "What're those?" Harry whispered back.

"You'll see," I said.

If the twins had it their way, we would know what was happening in a matter of seconds. My gaze turned towards the far corner of the room where I saw Dudley ducking down - likely picking up the present that Fred had left for him. Horse-Face gave a little shuddering gasp at the fireplace roaring. I wondered if she was used to seeing someone use a fireplace. Perhaps Lily, when she was younger. There was a whooshing sound from the fireplace, and Fred vanished. I glanced over at George, who gave me the same wink Fred had.

"Right then, George, you and the trunk," Mr. Weasley ordered.

They really weren't going to stay and watch? Perhaps they knew how much trouble they were going to get in the moment that we realized what was going to happen to Dudley. I just wished I knew which one the twins had given him. Harry and I helped George carry the trunk forward into the flames and turn it onto its end so that he could hold it better. George took my bag as well and I smiled at him, giving him a nod to tell him that I would let him know what happened. Then, with a second whoosh, George had cried out for the Burrow and vanished too.

"Ron, you next," Mr. Weasley said.

"See you," Ron said brightly to the Dursley's.

They looked absolutely horrified that Ron had dared speak to them. Harry and I smiled at each other before looking back to him. Ron grinned broadly at Harry and me, then stepped into the fire, shouted for the Burrow as his brothers had, and disappeared. Now Harry, Mr. Weasley, and I alone remained. The air was suddenly very awkward. Much to my surprise, Dudley moved a little bit closer to me. I tried to force a smile onto my face. I could at least give him a little smile.

"Is that your boyfriend?" Dudley asked.

My head whipped around to him. "What?" I gasped. Why did he think that Fred and I were together? Because we playfully messed with each other? "No. That's Fred Weasley. He's a good friend of mine."

"Oh," Dudley muttered, looking surprised. "Sorry."

"Well... 'bye then," Harry said awkwardly to the Dursley's.

"See ya," I added.

It was extremely awkward in the Dursley's household. All I wanted right now was to head to the Burrow and enjoy the last bit of the summer before heading back to Hogwarts. The Dursley's (unsurprisingly) didn't say anything at all. Harry and I both moved toward the fire to leave together, but just as the two of us reached the edge of the hearth, Mr. Weasley put out a hand and held us both back. I noticed that his eyes were almost deadlocked on Harry. What was the problem? Mr. Weasley was looking at the Dursley's in amazement.

"Harry said goodbye to you. Didn't you hear him?" Mr. Weasley asked

A small grin appeared on my face. "It doesn't matter," Harry muttered to Mr. Weasley. "Honestly, I don't care."

"It's no big deal. They'll never say goodbye," I whispered.

As much as it would be funny to see Mr. Weasley give Vermin a lesson in manners, I also didn't want anything to embarrass Harry. I knew that his aunt and uncle had always embarrassed Harry. He didn't like people knowing just how much his family hated and didn't care for him. But I supposed that it didn't matter. We would just ignore what they had said. They didn't really matter. The two of us went to move forward again, but Mr. Weasley did not remove his hand from Harry's shoulder.

"You aren't going to see your nephew till next summer," Mr. Weasley said to Vermin in mild indignation. "Surely you're going to say good-bye?"

One of my hands shot over my mouth. I wanted to know how this whole thing would play out. Much to my amusement, Vermin's face worked furiously. I had never seen him as angry as he was right now. The idea of being taught consideration by a man who had just blasted away half his living room wall seemed to be causing him intense suffering. But Mr. Weasley's wand was still in his hand, despite the fact that he would never do anything to him, and Vermin's tiny eyes darted to it once, before he took in a breath.

Very resentfully, he said, "Good-bye, then."

"See you," Harry said.

He put one foot forward into the green flames. "The two of you can go together, Tara," Mr. Weasley instructed.

"Okay," I said, stepping into the flames, which felt pleasantly like a warm breath. "Have a good year."

The green flames in front of my vision made me smile. I really did miss being in the Wizarding World. It was so much better than the dull reality of the Muggle world. Harry and I grabbed hands - which was much easier than slamming into each other as we rocketed through the grates - and he prepared to yell for the Burrow. The very moment that he began to say the name of the Weasley's home, however, a horrible gagging sound erupted behind the two of us, and Horse-Face started to scream.

It appeared that we were about to learn what it was that Fred and George had decided to leave as a present for Dudley. Harry and I wheeled around. Dudley was no longer standing behind his parents. He was kneeling beside the coffee table, and he was gagging and sputtering on a foot-long, purple, slimy thing that was protruding from his mouth. I gasped in surprise. One bewildered second later, I realized that the foot-long thing was Dudley's tongue and that a brightly colored toffee wrapper lay on the floor before him.

"I knew those morons managed it!" I gasped.

How didn't I realize that they were actually going to make those toffees work? I'd thought that they were being a little too ambitious too quickly, but it turned out that they had managed to prove me wrong. And I had never been so proud of them. I remembered Fred and George talking about something that they were trying to create to make your enemies wish that they had never opened their mouth. It turned out that it had worked. And this was why Fred had wanted me to come through last. He wanted someone to report to him on the effects.

"What is that?" Harry gasped.

"Fred and George's newest invention," I said.

Harry grinned. "Wicked."

We were both laughing at the top of our lungs by now. I had never seen something so amusing. Horse-Face hurled herself onto the ground beside Dudley, seized the end of his swollen tongue, and attempted to wrench it out of his mouth; unsurprisingly, Dudley yelled and sputtered worse than ever, trying to fight her off. She clearly didn't realize that the only way to get his tongue back to normal was going to be with more magic. Vermin was bellowing and waving his arms around, and Mr. Weasley had to shout to make himself heard.

"Not to worry, I can sort him out!" he yelled, advancing on Dudley with his wand outstretched, but Horse-Face screamed worse than ever and threw herself on top of Dudley, shielding him from Mr. Weasley.

"Better than television," I muttered to Harry.

He laughed. "No, really!" Mr. Weasley cried desperately. "It's a simple process - it was the toffee - my son Fred - real practical joker - but it's only an Engorgement Charm - at least, I think it is - please, I can correct it -"

But far from being reassured, the Dursley's became more panic-stricken; Horse-Face was sobbing hysterically, tugging Dudley's tongue as though determined to rip it out; Dudley appeared to be suffocating under the combined pressure of his mother and his tongue; and Vermin, who had lost control completely, seized a china figure from on top of the sideboard and threw it very hard at Mr. Weasley, who ducked, causing the ornament to shatter in the blasted fireplace. Harry and I both barked with mad laughter.

"Now really!" Mr. Weasley barked angrily, brandishing his wand. "I'm trying to help!"

It was rather amusing to watch the four of them try and figure out what the hell was happening. I wasn't exactly sure what had happened with the toffee and Fred and George had created. Like Mr. Weasley had said, it looked like it was a simple Engorgement Charm that they had placed on the candy. But I couldn't be sure. I would have to ask them later. They must have been waiting with anticipation for the two of us to arrive at the Burrow. Bellowing like a wounded hippo, Vermin snatched up another ornament.

"Harry, Tara, go! Just go!" Mr. Weasley shouted, his wand on Vermin. "I'll sort this out!"

"Oh," I whined, "but -"

"Now!" Mr. Weasley shouted.

"Told you it would be an eventful day," I chuckled to Harry.

The two of us laughed all over again. Nothing ever amused me quite as much as the twins did. I couldn't wait to tell them that the experiments they had spent so much time working on were actually a success. Neither Harry nor I wanted to miss the fun, but Vermin's second ornament narrowly missed Harry's left ear, and on balance, I thought it best to leave the situation to Mr. Weasley. Perhaps we would be able to get an accurate recount of what had happened from Mr. Weasley when we had all arrived at the Burrow.

Harry and I stepped fully into the fire, looking over our shoulder as the two of us shouted for the Burrow. My last fleeting glimpse of the living room was of Mr. Weasley blasting a third ornament out of Vermin's hand with his wand, Horse-Face screaming and lying on top of Dudley, and Dudley's tongue lolling around like a great slimy python. I was still chuckling, wishing to see how this would end, but next moment Harry and I had begun to spin very fast, and the Dursley's living room was whipped out of sight in a rush of emerald-green flames.


	5. Weasley Wizard Wheezes

Mere moments after the green flames erupted in front of my vision, I began to spin faster and faster, elbows tucked tightly to my sides, blurred fireplaces flashing past me, crashing into Harry every few moments until I started to feel sick and closed my eyes. After my accidental trip to India, I had never exactly been fond of travel by Floo. Then, when at last I felt myself slowing down, I threw out my hands and came to a halt in time to prevent myself from falling face forward out of the Weasley's kitchen fire. Harry's arm instantly latched onto mine for support.

We both shook our heads clear of the fuzziness from the constant spinning. "That was perfect!" I chuckled.

Just in front of me stood Fred and George, grinning wickedly. I was right about the fact that they had left the toffee for Dudley to eat and for me to report back my findings. Still giggling, I threw myself out of the fireplace and into Fred's arms. The toffee had mostly been his idea and it had worked marvelously. He was laughing in my ear, his hands tightening around my waist. Mrs. Weasley would be furious if she found out but it was so worth it. As we pulled apart, Fred pressed a kiss against my temple before releasing his grip on me.

"Did he eat it?" Fred asked excitedly, holding out a hand to pull Harry to his feet.

"Yeah," Harry said, straightening up.

"Boys, you have my love forever," I giggled as George walked over.

He hugged me so tightly that I thought a rib would crack as he hoisted me up into the air. "My dear, Tara -"

"We already knew that," Fred interrupted.

I rolled my eyes at the twins. "What was it?" Harry asked.

"Ton-Tongue Toffee," Fred said brightly.

My head whipped over to him as I narrowed my eyes. Of all the names that we had tried out... that was the one they had picked? "Is that really what you two idiots decided to call it?" I snapped.

"Yes," George said defensively.

"And we owe the idea all to you," Fred added, throwing an arm over my shoulder.

Uh-uh. That stupid name was all their own fault. "To me? You two came up with that one," I said.

"But it was you who said to invent something that would make your enemies wish that they had never opened their mouth," Fred explained.

That was how the two of them had come up with the idea? They always were smarter than I gave them credit for. Harry was staring at the three of us like we were insane. I almost forgot that I hadn't told him about Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. But I didn't want the secret getting out. The twins hadn't wanted to tell anyone until they were sure that their mother wouldn't freak out about it. Of course, it now seemed like it would come out anyway. And I was sure that she wasn't going to take their ultimate ambition well.

"I like how that somehow led the two of you into deciding that a good way to make someone do that was to engorge their tongue so that it flopped out of their mouth," I told the twins.

"You two didn't buy those?" Harry asked them.

"Hell no," I put in.

"George and I invented them, and we've been looking for someone to test them on all summer... Tara's been handling the finances and ideas," Fred explained.

"That's what you've been helping with?" Ron asked breathlessly.

As much as I had been at the Burrow over the summer, I hadn't told anyone the reasons for my real comings and goings. "Yeah!" I chirped happily. "That's why I've been around so much the past few months."

"Here we thought you liked our company," Ron huffed.

"Eh, you're all okay," I teased. Ron, Fred, and George huffed their displeasure at my comment. I grinned as I turned back to the twins. "You two are so going to be in for it when your father gets here."

"Us?" George asked questioningly. "Oh, no, Tara -"

"We're telling him that it was your idea," Fred said.

They were not going to be blaming me for this. They had asked me to help and I had agreed that I would do it. But I wasn't dealing with Mrs. or Mr. Weasley's wrath. That could be quite a frightening thing. I shifted to the side slightly and rammed into Fred as hard as I could. It didn't matter. He was twice my size. He didn't even budge. Instead, he merely laughed and looped an arm back over my shoulders. After a moment of trying to struggle against him, I gave in and wrapped my arm around his waist as we walked further into the house.

The tiny kitchen exploded with laughter; I glanced up and saw that everyone else had shifted around while I had been arguing with Fred. While Harry was still standing with us near the fireplace, Ron and George were now sitting at the scrubbed wooden table with two red-haired people I had never seen before, though I knew immediately who they must be: Bill and Charlie, the two eldest Weasley brothers. I had only seen pictures of them up until now and those had all seemed at least a few years old.

"How're you doing, Harry?" the nearer of the two offered, grinning at him and holding out a large hand, which Harry shook.

There was no doubt that this had to be Charlie, who worked with dragons in Romania. Charlie's friends had once even taken Norbert, a Norwegian Ridgeback, from Hagrid's hut at Hogwarts during our First Year. Charlie was built very much like the twins, slightly shorter and stockier than Percy and Ron, who were both long and lanky. Although the twins were starting to take after Percy. Charlie had a broad, good-natured face, which was weather-beaten and so freckly that he looked almost tanned; his arms were muscular, and one of them had a large, shiny burn on it.

Once Charlie had released Harry's hand, he walked over to me. "You must be the Tara I've heard so much about," Charlie said sweetly, shaking my hand; I felt the calluses and blisters under his fingers.

"All bad things, I'm sure," I teased.

Charlie smiled. "Quite on the contrary, actually. I've heard nothing but good things."

"See?" Fred teased, coming up on my side.

"Always so mistrusting," George added, coming to my other.

"When it comes to the two of you? Yes, I am," I snapped.

The twins huffed as I shoved them away from me. Two weeks constantly being around them... I wasn't sure how I was going to manage them. At least in Hogwarts, I got a chance to get away from them. Distracting me from my problems with the twins, I spotted Bill getting to his feet, smiling. He walked over and shook Harry's hand. A moment later he walked over to me and shook mine. Bill came as something of a surprise, considering the way the rest of the Weasley's appeared. Very much a normal Pureblood wizarding family.

I knew that Bill worked for the wizarding bank, Gringotts, and that Bill had been Head Boy at Hogwarts; I had always imagined Bill to be an older version of Percy: fussy about rule-breaking and fond of bossing everyone around. However, Bill was - there was no other word for it - cool. He was tall, with long hair that he had tied back in a ponytail. He was wearing an earring with what looked like a snake fang dangling from it. Bill's clothes would not have looked out of place at a rock concert, except that I recognized his boots to be made, not of leather, but of dragon hide.

"Good to meet you, Tara," Bill said.

"You, too, Bill. I love those boots, by the way," I said.

"Thank you."

"Snake fang?" I questioned about the earring.

"Yes." I'd figured that it was a snake fang. As cool as it was, I would never like snakes. Not after our incident in the Chamber of Secrets with the Basilisk. I shivered slightly. "Not a fan?" Bill asked curiously.

"Of the earring? Yes," I said truthfully. Bill smiled nicely. "Of snakes? Not in particular. I've had a few too close calls."

"She battles a Basilisk one time and all of a sudden, she's the master of snakes," Fred said, rolling his eyes into the back of his head.

Immediately I whipped around to Fred. I was going to punch him so damn hard. "I nearly got my leg ripped off for trying to save your sister!" I shouted, aggravated with the pain in the ass twin. "Shut up!"

George rolled his eyes, just like his twin had just done. "Drama queen," George yawned.

"Basilisk?" Charlie asked, clearly interested by our conversation. "You saw one and lived to tell the tale?"

Had Charlie and Bill not heard about what I had done with Harry down in the Chamber of Secrets? I turned to the Weasley brothers. "Seriously? There was someone that you didn't tell about that?" I asked curiously.

"Mum and Ginny would get faint every time that I talked about it so they told me to just forget about it," Ron explained.

But Bill and Charlie still looked interested. "Perhaps a dinnertime story," I muttered awkwardly.

The last thing that I wanted to do was make any of them feel nervous or awkward. Especially when I was so grateful to be out of the awkward air of my own house. Before any of us could say anything else, there was a faint popping noise, and Mr. Weasley appeared out of thin air at George's shoulder. I stifled a laugh by pressing my head into Fred's shoulder. I was absolutely positive that this wasn't going to go well for either one of the twins. Mr. Weasley was looking angrier than I had ever seen him. In fact, he usually looked quite calm.

"You two are in for it," I muttered to Fred and George. They both looked in between terrified of their father and annoyed with me. I turned a bright grin on Mr. Weasley. "How are the Dursley's?"

He completely ignored me. "That wasn’t funny, Fred! What on earth did you give that Muggle boy?" Mr. Weasley howled.

By the smiles that the twins were giving, I was sure that things weren't going to get any better. "I didn't give him anything, I just dropped it... It was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to," Fred said, with another evil grin.

"You dropped it on purpose!" Mr. Weasley roared. "You knew he'd eat it, you knew he was on a diet -"

"How big did his tongue get?" George asked eagerly.

"It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it!" Mr. Weasley barked.

It had barely been a foot long when we had gone through the fireplace. The image of Dudley with a four-foot-long purple tongue hanging out of his mouth sent me into a fit of hysterics. It wasn't just me. Harry and the Weasley's roared with laughter again. I was leaning in between the twins, laughing loudly and practically in tears. The image of Dudley along with his completely panicked parents was one of the funniest things I had ever thought about. As Mr. Weasley glared at us, I turned my head up to smile at the twins.

"It works even better than I thought it would!" I gasped.

"You were right. The Engorgement Charm did work," Fred said.

"Honestly, I didn't think that it would be powerful enough," I said.

"We think it worked splendidly," George teased.

"It isn't funny!" Mr. Weasley shouted.

"It's a little funny," I mumbled.

Mr. Weasley ignored me as the twins and Harry grinned. "That sort of behavior seriously undermines wizard-Muggle relations!" Mr. Weasley shouted at his sons. "I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons -"

"We didn't give it to him because he's a Muggle!" Fred shouted indignantly.

"No, we gave it to him because he's a great bullying git. Isn't he, Harry?" George asked.

"Yeah, he is, Mr. Weasley," Harry said earnestly.

But I could see that Mr. Weasley still didn't believe us. "Dudley Dursley, for the most part, is awful," I said honestly, only remembering the advice that he had given me over Cedric as his redeeming quality. "He deserved it for all of the times that he's bullied Harry and everyone else in the neighborhood."

"That's not the point!" Mr. Weasley raged. "You wait until I tell your mother -"

"Tell me what?" a voice asked behind us.

Everyone whipped around in complete horror. That was the one thing that we really, desperately, hadn't wanted. It was all fun and games right up until she came into the picture. Mrs. Weasley had just entered the kitchen. Despite her stature, she was easily one of the most frightening people that I had ever met. She was a short, plump woman with a very kind face, though her eyes were presently narrowed with suspicion. With her twin sons being exactly who they are, she must have already known where this conversation was going.

"Now you two are in for it," I teased quietly.

"Damn," Fred and George said together.

The moment that Mrs. Weasley locked onto the twins, she was going to have it out with them. But that wasn't quite yet. "Oh hello, Harry, dear. Tara, dear, welcome back," Mrs. Weasley said, spotting us and smiling.

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley. Good to be back," I said brightly.

"Marcus and Julia doing alright?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"They're good. Ready for the World Cup to be over with, I think," I answered. Mrs. Weasley raised her brow curiously. "Awful fun to go to. Not so much fun to plan."

Mrs. Weasley smiled. Then her eyes snapped back to her husband. "Tell me what, Arthur?"

Mr. Weasley hesitated. This was usually the part in the afternoon and night when things got quite awkward. I loved Mr. and Mrs. Weasley but I knew that things could get pretty awkward when Mrs. Weasley wanted an answer and Mrs. Weasley didn't want to tell him the entire truth. I could tell that, however angry he was with Fred and George, Mr. Weasley hadn't really intended to tell Mrs. Weasley what had happened. It was undoubted that Mr. Weasley always tried to keep Mrs. Weasley from the worst things that the twins did.

There was a very awkward silence, while Mr. Weasley eyed his wife nervously. I smiled awkwardly at the twins. They were going to be in so much trouble. Then two girls appeared in the kitchen doorway behind Mrs. Weasley. I smiled brightly. One, with very bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth, was Harry's, Ron's friend, and my own friend, Hermione Granger. The other, who was small and red-haired, was Ron's younger sister, Ginny. Both of them smiled at Harry and me, both of whom grinned back. Harry's made Ginny go scarlet - she had been very taken with Harry ever since his first visit to the Burrow.

"Evening, ladies," I chirped.

There was another voice before they got the chance to respond. "Tell me what, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley repeated, in a dangerous sort of voice.

"It's nothing, Molly," Mr. Weasley mumbled, "Fred and George just - but I've had words with them -"

"What have they done this time?" Mrs. Weasley hissed dangerously. "If it's got anything to do with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes -"

"I can't believe that's what you two named it," I huffed irritably.

Of all of the names that the three of us had come up with - and with Lee's help - I couldn't believe that they had come up with that. "Why don't you show Harry and Tara where they're sleeping, Ron?" Hermione offered from the doorway.

"They know where they're sleeping, in my room and Ginny's, they slept there last -" Ron started.

"We can all go," Hermione said pointedly.

I cleared my throat for him to get the message. "Oh. Right," Ron said, cottoning on.

"Yeah, we’ll come too," George said.

"You stay where you are!" Mrs. Weasley snarled.

"Good luck," I muttered to the twins.

They were going to really have it in for them. But that wasn't my problem. I supposed that was something that we could all talk about for another occasion. They would be way too angry with the twins right now. Harry, Ron, and I edged out of the kitchen, and the three of us, Hermione, and Ginny set off along the narrow hallway and up the rickety staircase that zigzagged through the house to the upper stories. I could tell that the twins so desperately wanted to come with us, but they were sucked into a chewing-out with their mother right now.

"What are Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?" Harry asked as we climbed.

As much as I loved Harry, this was one of the promises that I had promised them I would keep. This was one of the promises that I had promised Fred and George that I would keep a secret. No matter whether or not their parents or siblings found out, I would never tell anyone about just how much the twins had invested. They were ready to start looking for their eventual store. With my trust fund left by my parents and grandparents, I had promised them that I would invest a lot into their store. Because I believe in them. Ron, Ginny, and I all laughed, although Hermione didn't.

"Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's room. Great long price lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. It was brilliant, I never knew they'd been inventing all that..." Ron said quietly.

"We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually making things. We thought they just liked the noise," Ginny said.

"Only, most of the stuff - well, all of it, really - was a bit dangerous and, you know, they were planning to sell it at Hogwarts to make some money, and Mum went mad at them. Told them they weren't allowed to make any more of it and burned all the order forms... She's furious at them anyway. They didn't get as many O.W.L.s as she expected," Ron said.

Honestly, I did feel a little bad for the twins. I knew that their mother hadn't reacted well to the scores that they had gotten. O.W.L.s were Ordinary Wizarding Levels, the examinations Hogwarts students took at the age of fifteen. While most people tried to get as many O.W.L.'s as they possibly could, Fred and George had been more concerned with their jokes. Each had only gotten three O.W.L.'s. Both had gotten Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Fred had gotten Transfiguration and George had gotten Herbology.

"And then there was this big row because Mum wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and they told her all they want to do is open a joke shop," Ginny continued.

"But Tara never mentioned to us that she's been helping them for a year," Ron huffed.

"Not quite a year!" I barked irritably. "They're really serious about the joke stuff. They've been having me help with ideas and funding all summer. I don't mind; I think of it as a down payment. The business will take off. You know how much everyone loves their pranks. The twins are seriously smart and clever. They're becoming successful businessmen."

Even Harry looked annoyed that I hadn't told them. "You didn't tell us about that!" Harry snapped.

"They wanted to keep it a secret because they knew that she'd be furious with them," I argued. The twins had asked to keep it a secret and I had agreed. "But this is what they want to do and who should stop them? They're good at it. They just want everyone to be proud of them."

"They could do better, though," Hermione said quietly.

I turned to glare at her. Perhaps it wasn't the most normal career choice, but this was their passion. That was all that mattered. "I don't think anyone can do better than something that they love, even if everyone else thinks it's a fools move," I answered.

"Right on," Ginny agreed.

We both laughed. Beside myself, Ginny was the other one who genuinely believed that Weasley's Wizard Wheezes would eventually take off. I assumed that it was just because she had grown up with the twins and knew how good the two of them were with their pranks. Just then a door on the second landing opened, and a face poked out wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a very annoyed expression. Percy looked like he had aged about thirty years since graduating Hogwarts just a few months ago.

"Hi, Percy," Harry said.

"Oh hello, Harry. Welcome back, Tara," Percy said.

"Thanks, Percy. Feels like I've barely seen you all summer," I commented.

"Well, work has certainly kept me busy," Percy responded.

"You're working even when you're at home?" I asked curiously.

The moment that I got home, the last thing I wanted to do was work. "Of course. How else will you get ahead?" Percy asked. I shrugged my shoulders. At least he had a good work ethic. "I was wondering who was making all the noise. I'm trying to work in here, you know - I've got a report to finish for the office - and it's rather difficult to concentrate when people keep thundering up and down the stairs."

"We're not thundering. We're walking. Sorry if we've disturbed the top-secret workings of the Ministry of Magic," Ron said irritably.

"What are you working on?" Harry asked.

"A report for the Department of International Magical Cooperation," Percy said smugly. "We're trying to standardize cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin - leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost three percent a year -"

"That'll change the world, that report will. Front page of the Daily Prophet, I expect, cauldron leaks," Ron sneered.

Percy went slightly pink. Out of all of Ron's siblings, I knew that he hated Percy the most. Not that he really hated him, but he didn't really care for him. Fred and George were both comical and hysterical. Ginny was a sweetheart and quite the comedian when she wanted to be. Bill seemed very laid back and funny to talk to. Charlie was a little more serious but was nowhere near Percy. In fact, I wasn't quite sure where Percy had come from. He seemed to be a little too straight-laced to come from a family like the Weasley's.

"Sounds fascinating," I said, trying to calm down the heated conversation.

But Percy was locked onto Ron's teasing comment. "You might sneer, Ron," Percy said heatedly, "but unless some sort of international law is imposed we might well find the market flooded with flimsy, shallow-bottomed products that seriously endanger -"

"Yeah, yeah, all right," Ron said, and he started off upstairs again.

Percy slammed his bedroom door shut. I glanced at the others awkwardly. Perhaps one day Ron and Percy would figure out how to be friendly with each other again. As Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and I followed Ron up three more flights of stairs, shouts from the kitchen below echoed up to us. Fred and George were definitely in for it this time. At least they would be able to get away from her for a few days with the World Cup. But, for now, it sounded as though Mr. Weasley had told Mrs. Weasley about the toffees.

The room at the top of the house where Ron slept looked much as it had the last time that I had come to stay: the same posters of Ron's favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons (who were actually terrible), were whirling and waving on the walls and sloping ceiling, and the fish tank on the windowsill, which had previously held frog spawn, now contained one extremely large frog. Ron's old rat, Scabbers, was here no more, but instead, there was the tiny gray owl that had delivered Ron's letter to Harry in Privet Drive. It was hopping up and down in a small cage and twittering madly.

"Shut up, Pig," Ron snarled, edging his way between two of the four beds that had been squeezed into the room.

"Pig?" I whispered to Hermione. She shrugged.

"Fred and George are in here with us, because Bill and Charlie are in their room. Percy gets to keep his room all to himself because he's got to work," Ron told Harry.

"Please make sure that they don't try to sneak into Ginny's room and light my hair on fire while I sleep," I said.

"That could be kind of funny," Ron mumbled.

"Shut up," I snapped.

"Er - why are you calling that owl Pig?" Harry asked Ron.

"Because he's being stupid. Its proper name is Pigwidgeon," Ginny said.

"Yeah, and that's not a stupid name at all," Ron said sarcastically.

For once, Ron actually had a point. "Love you, Ginny, but that is a terrible name," I said quietly.

She gave me a betrayed look as I smiled weakly at her. "Ginny named him," Ron explained to Harry. "She reckons it's sweet. And I tried to change it, but it was too late, he won't answer to anything else. So now he's Pig. I've got to keep him up here because he annoys Errol and Hermes. He annoys me too, come to that."

At least we were pretty confident that Pig wasn't a serial killer in disguise. That was an incident that I cared not to repeat anytime soon. Pigwidgeon zoomed happily around his cage, hooting shrilly. I cringed as I dropped down onto Ron's bed. Ron was still glaring at the little owl. I knew Ron too well to take him seriously. He had moaned continually about his old rat, Scabbers, but had been most upset when Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, appeared to have eaten him - which actually would have saved us a lot of time and annoyance if he had.

"At least you've got an owl that's not Errol," I pointed out.

"Fair enough," Ron shrugged.

"Where's Crookshanks?" Harry asked Hermione now.

"Out in the garden, I expect. He likes chasing gnomes. He's never seen any before," Hermione answered.

"How's Cedric, Tara?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, what happened there?" Hermione added.

Ron gave me a shocked look. "Did you two break up?" he asked.

"What? No!" I barked. "I mean... it's complicated."

"Might as well tell them what happened," Harry said.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny looked extremely confused. I sighed and decided that it would probably save me a lot of explaining down the road if I just told them what had happened now. So, I decided to go for it. I explained all about how careful we had been throughout the summer until managing to get caught kissing in the alley around the Leaky Cauldron. They had all seemed shocked that I'd been caught. They seemed even more surprised to hear that my parents had thrown a fit about the relationship, asking me to break things off with him.

There was a brief silence while everyone processed my story. "But you're not planning to?" Hermione asked slowly.

She knew me so well. "Duh! Mom's okay with it now, anyway. She told me while Dad was at the World Cup that she didn't love it but wasn't going to try and stop me," I explained. "Ending things with him would be stupid. It's only another year that I have to hold up to my end of the bargain."

"Even though you're not holding it up at all," Ron pointed out.

"Yeah, pretty much," I agreed.

"Are they going to be at the World Cup?" Ginny asked, referring to my parents.

"Unfortunately everyone will be there. So, I'll have to be very awkward and very careful while we're there. If any of you mention the fact that we're still going to be seeing each other, I'll kill you," I warned the others.

"You're going to make things worse," Ron said.

"Maybe. But at least I'll still have my boyfriend," I said.

As Ginny grinned at my stupid plan, Hermione shook her head. "You really need to stop breaking the rules."

"Come on, Hermione! Live a little!" I teased, shaking her shoulders.

"I can't believe you got caught," Ginny snorted.

"They snog every time they're around each other. It's sickening. Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't get caught sooner," Ron groaned.

He was such a pain in the ass. He was always commenting about how I kissed Cedric every time that I saw him. Which wasn't exactly a lie. We did. But we were dating. We were allowed to kiss each other! I leaned over to Ron and jumped on him, tackling him back against the bed. I definitely wasn't going to leave him alone once he got his first girlfriend. We both laughed as I sat over him, punching his shoulders and chest. The others laughed at us as Ron eventually managed to throw me back over to my own side of the bed, calming us both down.

Once everyone had calmed down - and Ron had finished complaining about the bruises that I had given him - we all settled onto the beds and started chatting with each other. They were talking to me about everything that had happened between Cedric and me over the summer and how the two of us had spent our summer. I could tell that Hermione was trying to get me to listen to my parents' request while Ginny was telling me to go for it. As usual, Ron and Harry wanted me to end things with Cedric. I made it very clear that I wouldn't. Not after how long I had been crushing on him.

There was no way that I was giving up on the relationship. "Just be careful. We all know that you're happy with him. But you'll make things much worse with your parents if you get caught," Ginny explained reasonably.

"I know," I said.

"Or you two could just -"

"Knock it off," I interrupted Harry.

Neither he nor Ron would ever be okay with the relationship. Not even when I was a fully grown adult. We all started laughing as everyone took their spots. I leaned onto Ron's lap and kicked my feet up into Harry's. They both laughed at me as I did. I fiddled with the chain hanging around my neck, keeping it out of sight of the others. They would all know that it was the necklace that Cedric had bought me - the one that showed my happiest memories. I was sick of them making fun of my relationship. It was enough for one day.

"Percy's enjoying work, then?" Harry asked, watching the Chudley Cannons zooming in and out of the posters on the ceiling.

"Enjoying it? I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him. He's obsessed," Percy said darkly.

"I've only seen him once or twice all summer. He's always in his room, working," I said.

"Be grateful for it," Ron groaned.

He was definitely the most bitter about Percy's new job. "Hey, he's got a job that he loves. Nothing wrong with that," I pointed out.

"He just doesn't have to be so pompous about it!" Ron barked.

"It's like you don't even know Percy," I laughed.

Ron huffed again. "Just don't get him onto the subject of his boss. According to Mr. Crouch... as I was saying to Mr. Crouch... Mr. Crouch is of the opinion... Mr. Crouch was telling me... They'll be announcing their engagement any day now."

"So... I take it Percy left you for Mr. Crouch? You can be bitter, Ron. Honestly, we understand," I said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Shut up, Tara!" Ron barked.

He instantly jumped onto me, knocking Harry away from me, as he began whacking me on the shoulder. The two of us wrestled for a few minutes, laughing hysterically, as I threw Ron down onto the floor. Ginny clearly got a good kick out of seeing her older brother get bullied. I could tell that Hermione was trying very hard not to laugh. Harry was making it no secret that he found the whole thing humorous. I pushed Ron on the floor a few more times before finally allowing him back up to his spot on the bed again.

"Have you had a good summer, Harry? Did you get our food parcels and everything?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, thanks a lot. They saved my life, those cakes," Harry said.

"Except they made for a few really sick nights from overeating," I said, remembering almost getting sick in his bathroom one night. Everyone laughed.

"And have you heard from - ?" Ron began, but at a look from Hermione, he fell silent.

One kick in the stomach from me and he backpedaled. I knew Ron had been about to ask about Sirius. Ron and Hermione had been so deeply involved in helping Sirius escape from the Ministry of Magic that they were almost as concerned about our godfather as we were. However, discussing him in front of Ginny was a bad idea. We loved Ginny, but Sirius was a subject that couldn't be broached until his innocence really had been proven. Nobody but ourselves, my parents, and Professor Dumbledore knew about how Sirius had escaped or believed in his innocence.

"I think they've stopped arguing," Hermione said, to cover the awkward moment because Ginny was looking curiously from Ron to Harry to me. "Shall we go down and help your mum with dinner?"

"Yeah, all right," Ron said.

"Dinner!" I chirped happily.

Having not eaten lately, I was starving. I was more concerned with trying to avoid my parents in the immediate aftermath of the Cedric debacle. The five of us left Ron's room and went back downstairs to find Mrs. Weasley alone in the kitchen, looking extremely bad-tempered. I raised a brow as I looked around for Fred and George. I wasn't sure where the two of them had gone. They were probably sulking around with their tails tucked between their legs after what I assumed was a good reaming from Mrs. Weasley.

"We're eating out in the garden," Mrs. Weasley said when they came in. "There's just not room for twelve people in here. Could you take the plates outside, girls? Bill and Charlie are setting up the tables."

No problem," I said.

"Knives and forks, please, you two," Mrs. Weasley added to Ron and Harry.

The shortness of her voice told me that she wasn't one to be trifled with right now. The easiest thing to do would be to agree with whatever it was that she wanted. She pointed her wand a little more vigorously than she had intended at a pile of potatoes in the sink, which shot out of their skins so fast that they ricocheted off the walls and ceiling. I ducked down, just barely missing getting splashed by a large pile of the potatoes.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Mrs. Weasley snapped, now directing her wand at a dustpan, which hopped off the sideboard and started skating across the floor, scooping up the potatoes.

"Is she okay?" I whispered to Ron.

"Doesn't look like it," he answered.

"Those two!" Mrs. Weasley burst out savagely, now pulling pots and pans out of a cupboard, and I knew she meant Fred and George. "I don't know what's going to happen to them, I really don't. No ambition, unless you count making as much trouble as they possibly can..."

"But they are quite good at what they do," I muttered quietly.

She completely ignored me. I just felt bad for the twins. I loved them and understood how much they loved the joke shop. They deserved to be allowed to do whatever it was that made them happy. Even if it was something that Mrs. Weasley deemed a bad career choice. They simply weren't like their parents or older brothers. Mrs. Weasley slammed a large copper saucepan down on the� kitchen table and began to wave her wand around inside it. A creamy sauce poured from the wand tip as she stirred.

"It's not as though they haven't got brains," Mrs. Weasley continued irritably, taking the saucepan over to the stove and lighting it with a further poke of her wand, "But they're wasting them, and unless they pull themselves together soon, they'll be in real trouble. I've had more owls from Hogwarts about them than the rest put together. If they carry on the way they're going, they'll end up in front of the Improper Use of Magic Office."

Mrs. Weasley jabbed her wand at the cutlery drawer, which shot open. Harry, Ron, and I jumped out of the way as several knives soared out of it, flew across the kitchen, and began chopping the potatoes, which had just been tipped back into the sink by the dustpan. I was sure that all three of us would have just been skewered against the walls if we hadn't jumped out of the way. I glanced at Ron and Harry, ignoring the calls from Hermione and Ginny to come help them. I was more curious about what Mrs. Weasley was saying about the twins.

"I don't know where we went wrong with them," Mrs. Weasley continued, putting down her wand and starting to pull out still more saucepans. "It's been the same for years, one thing after another, and they won't listen to - OH NOT AGAIN!"

Mrs. Weasley had picked up her wand from the table, and it had emitted a loud squeak and turned into a giant rubber mouse. I covered my mouth to keep myself from laughing. She was furious and the last thing that I wanted was to make her even angrier. Especially with everything that she was doing for us right now. But it was rather funny that she had picked up another one of Fred and George's fake wands. I thought that they were rather cheesy, but it was the reaction of the person trying to use it that was the real joke.

"One of their fake wands again! How many times have I told them not to leave them lying around?" Mrs. Weasley shouted.

She grabbed her real wand and turned around to find that the sauce on the stove was smoking. "C'mon," Ron said hurriedly to Harry and me, seizing a handful of cutlery from the open drawer, "let's go and help Bill and Charlie."

The three of us left Mrs. Weasley and headed out the back door into the yard. Hermione and Ginny had been waiting for us. I assumed that they had overheard everything that Mrs. Weasley had been saying. It would have been hard not to. It was one of the loudest that I had ever heard her - save the Howler that she had sent Ron at the beginning of Second Year after we had stolen their flying Ford Anglia and accidentally driven it right into the Whomping Willow. Maybe Mrs. Weasley did have a reason to be yelling at her kids...

"Poor Fred and George," I muttered.

"If they worked a little harder in school -"

"That's not what they want to do, Hermione," I interrupted her. "Not everyone is amazing at school. And, even if they are, not everyone's passions lay there. Fred and George are really smart. They're wonderful in Charms, but they don't want to work in the Ministry. They love to make people laugh. They're going to do wonderfully with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."

"But they should really try harder in school," Hermione pointed out quietly.

"Who cares? They love jokes and everyone loves them," I said.

"Think they're really going to make the joke shop work?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Yes, I do. I'm rooting for them," I said.

"They'll need some money to start the joke shop out of Hogwarts. That means that they'll have to have real jobs once they get out of Hogwarts," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"Who said that the joke shop wasn't a real job?" I asked seriously. "And they've got me!"

"You have money?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Given to me by my parents and grandparents to do with as I please. And I care to support the joke shop," I said seriously.

"I'm with you, Tara," Ginny said happily.

"It's just not practical," Hermione whispered.

"The things we love usually aren't," I said sweetly.

It was the entire truth. Dad had been a professional Quidditch player. It wasn't something that was practical. In school, everyone had told him that it was an unrealistic dream. But he had managed. He had done it well. And so would the twins. The five us of had only gone a few paces when Hermione’s bandy-legged ginger cat, Crookshanks, came pelting out of the garden, bottle-brush tail held high in the air, chasing what looked like a muddy potato on legs. I recognized it instantly as a gnome. They were some of the most disgusting creatures around.

But we were quite used to them at the Burrow. They lived in the garden and seemed to hang around quite a bit. I assumed that it was because the Weasley's were a rather amusing family. Barely ten inches high, the gnomes horny little feet pattered very fast as it sprinted across the yard and dived headlong into one of the Wellington boots that lay scattered around the door. I could hear the gnome giggling madly as Crookshanks inserted a paw into the boot, trying to reach it. Meanwhile, a very loud crashing noise was coming from the other side of the house.

We all whipped around to see what was happening. The source of the commotion was revealed as the five of us entered the garden, and saw that Bill and Charlie both had their wands out, and were making two battered old tables fly high above the lawn, smashing into each other, each attempting to knock the other's out of the air. Fred and George were cheering, Ginny was laughing, and Hermione was hovering near the hedge, apparently torn between amusement and anxiety. I immediately began laughing.

Where the hell had Percy come from? He was so different from the rest of his family. Bill's table caught Charlie's with a huge bang and knocked one of its legs off. Everyone laughed as it went shooting across the yard. There was a clatter from overhead, and we all looked up to see Percy's head poking out of a window on the second floor. He looked even more stressed out than he had been a few minutes ago. I couldn't understand what he was doing working when everyone was having fun downstairs in the garden.

"Will you keep it down!" Percy bellowed.

"Sorry, Perce. How're the cauldron bottoms coming on?" Bill asked, grinning.

"Very badly," Percy said peevishly, and he slammed the window shut.

I turned to Bill and Charlie. "Oh, come one, one more time," I goaded.

Bill laughed, shaking his head. "No. You have to wait a while for him to calm down and then do it again."

"Touche," I agreed.

Perhaps we could all annoy Percy a little bit later. Right now, it was definitely the best idea to keep the annoyance with the older Weasley's to a minimum. Chuckling at Percy's aggravation, Bill and Charlie directed the tables safely onto the grass, end to end, and then, with a flick of his wand, Bill reattached the table leg and conjured tablecloths from nowhere. These were the moments that I wished I could do magic on my own. I hated having to wait another few years until I was legal. But, at the sight of food, I grinned excitedly.

By seven o'clock, the two tables were groaning under dishes and dishes of Mrs. Weasley's excellent cooking, and the nine Weasley's, Harry, Hermione, and I were settling themselves down to eat beneath a clear, deep-blue sky. Everything smelled wonderful and looked even better. Harry looked like he was in heaven. To somebody who had been living on meals of increasingly stale cake all summer, this was paradise, and at first, Harry seemed to be listening rather than talking as he helped himself to chicken and ham pie, boiled potatoes, and salad.

Fred and George spent much of the meal teasing me. I rolled my eyes at the twins. They couldn't stop harassing me for more than a few minutes. It was interesting to talk to Charlie about his work with dragons in Romania and Bill turned out to have quite a good taste in music. Ginny was the most confident I had ever seen her around Harry. I assumed she was slowly growing out of her crush. Hermione was, obviously, excited to start the new term. At the far end of the table, Percy was telling his father all about his report on cauldron bottoms.

"I've told Mr. Crouch that I'll have it ready by Tuesday," Percy was saying pompously. "That's a bit sooner than he expected it, but I like to keep on top of things. I think he'll be grateful I've done it in good time, I mean, it's extremely busy in our department just now, what with all the arrangements for the World Cup. We're just not getting the support we need from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Ludo Bagman -"

"I like Ludo. He was the one who got us such good tickets for the Cup. I did him a bit of a favor: His brother, Otto, got into a spot of trouble - a lawnmower with unnatural powers - I smoothed the whole thing over," Mr. Weasley said mildly.

"Oh Bagman's likable enough, of course, but how he ever got to be Head of Department... when I compare him to Mr. Crouch!" Percy said dismissively. "I can't see Mr. Crouch losing a member of our department and not trying to find out what's happened to them. You realize Bertha Jorkins has been missing for over a month now? Went on holiday to Albania and never came back?"

"Yes, I was asking Ludo about that. He says Bertha's gotten lost plenty of times before now - though I must say, if it was someone in my department, I'd be worried..." Mr. Weasley said, frowning.

"Oh, Bertha's hopeless, all right. I hear she's been shunted from department to department for years, much more trouble than she's worth... but all the same, Bagman ought to be trying to find her. Mr. Crouch has been taking a personal interest, she worked in our department at one time, you know, and I think Mr. Crouch was quite fond of her - but Bagman just keeps laughing and saying she probably misread the map and ended up in Australia instead of Albania. However," Percy heaved an impressive sigh and took a deep swig of elder-flower wine, "we've got quite enough on our plates at the Department of International Magical Cooperation without trying to find members of other departments too. As you know, we've got another big event to organize right after the World Cup."

Percy cleared his throat significantly and looked down toward the end of the table where Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were sitting. I rolled my eyes. I had heard Mom and Dad talking about some event that was going on. Apparently, Dad would have to start planning it the moment the World Cup was over. He had promised me that I would hear about it soon enough and that was the last that we had talked about it. I didn't really care. If it was being organized by Barty Crouch and the Ministry of Magic, I wasn't interested.

"You know the one I'm talking about, Father." Percy raised his voice slightly. "The top-secret one."

Ron rolled his eyes and muttered to Harry, Hermione, and me, "He's been trying to get us to ask what that event is ever since he started work. Probably an exhibition of thick-bottomed cauldrons."

I snorted in amusement. I couldn't believe that Percy was that thrilled with writing reports on cauldron bottoms. It wasn't that thrilling. In fact, it sounded quite boring for someone who had graduated at the top of their class. I had originally thought Percy would end up doing something much more important with his time after school. In the middle of the table, it seemed that Mrs. Weasley was arguing with Bill about his snake earring, which seemed to be a recent acquisition.

"... with a horrible great fang on it. Really, Bill, what do they say at the bank?"

"Mum, no one at the bank gives a damn how I dress as long as I bring home plenty of treasure," Bill said patiently.

"And your hair's getting silly, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, fingering her wand lovingly. "I wish you'd let me give it a trim..."

"I like it," Ginny said, who was sitting beside Bill. "You're so old-fashioned, Mum. Anyway, it's nowhere near as long as Professor Dumbledore's..."

Mrs. Weasley was a little old-fashioned. I agreed with Ginny. The earring looked quite good on Bill. I could tell that he was the most fashion-forward of the Weasley's. As Mrs. Weasley continued arguing with Bill about the earring - with Ginny's support to her brother - and Mr. Weasley continued chatting with Percy about the Ministry, I glanced elsewhere. I wasn't interested in talking about school with Hermione. Next, to Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and Charlie were all talking spiritedly about the World Cup.

"It's got to be Ireland," Charlie said thickly, through a mouthful of potato. "They flattened Peru in the semifinals."

"Bulgaria has got Viktor Krum, though," Fred said.

"Krum's one decent player, Ireland has got seven," Charlie said shortly.

"Ireland will win," I put in.

"You're so sure?" Charlie asked curiously.

"Hell, yeah!" I chirped excitedly. I would be furious if Ireland didn't win. "Ireland plays dirty and fast. They're much more entertaining than Bulgaria, even though Krum's got a little bit of a flair."

Charlie nodded in agreement. "I wish England had got through. That was embarrassing, that was."

"It's been years since England got in," I explained to Harry. "It was the United States that were an utter embarrassment this year!"

They hadn't even made it into the finals for the World Cup... "They've been going downhill since your father left," Charlie said.

"Oh, I know. I'm almost tempted to try out for them after Hogwarts," I responded.

"You might make it. Or you could go for England's team. They could use the help," Charlie told me.

"What happened?" Harry asked eagerly. I could tell that he was regretting more than ever his isolation from the Wizarding World when he was stuck on Privet Drive. I was his only source of information.

"Went down to Transylvania, three hundred and ninety to ten," Charlie said gloomily.

"And Transylvania never does that well," I added.

"Shocking performance. And Wales lost to Uganda, and Scotland was slaughtered by Luxembourg," Charlie moaned.

Of all of the things in the Wizarding World that Harry loved, there was nothing that he loved more than Quidditch. Something that I had tried to help instill in him. The two of us had been on the Gryffindor House Quidditch team ever since our First Year at Hogwarts and we both owned some of the best racing brooms in the world, the Firebolt. Flying came more naturally to me than anything else in the magical world, having had a professional Quidditch player for a father, and I played in the position of Alternate Chaser on the Gryffindor House team.

Mr. Weasley conjured up candles to light the darkening garden before we had our homemade strawberry ice cream, and by the time we had finished, moths were fluttering low over the table, and the warm air was perfumed with the smells of grass and honeysuckle. It reminded me of one of the many outdoor nights that I had spent in Florida. I was feeling extremely well fed and at peace with the world as I watched several gnomes sprinting through the rosebushes, laughing madly and closely pursued by Crookshanks.

Ron looked carefully up the table to check that the rest of the family were all busy talking, then he said very quietly to Harry and me, "So - have you heard from Sirius lately?"

Hermione looked around, listening closely. "Yeah, twice. He wrote to you three times, right, Tara?" Harry asked quietly.

"Yeah," I whispered back.

"He sounds okay. I wrote to him yesterday. He might write back while I'm here," Harry said.

"He stopped by the day after we made it back home," I told the other two.

I hadn't wanted to write Hermione or Ron about that night and I hadn't been able to tell them when I had visited since the rest of their families were always around. Their eyes widened. "He did?" Hermione whispered.

"Yeah. Just for dinner. Wanted to see Mom and Dad and get some more time with Harry and me in a less stressful environment, I assume," I said.

"Wish we could have seen him again," Ron said.

"He sends his best," I told them.

It would have been nice for Ron and Hermione to see Sirius again, but he hadn't been there long enough. Perhaps we would all be able to see him soon enough. Very suddenly I remembered the reason we had written to Sirius, and for a moment I was on the verge of telling Ron and Hermione about Harry's scar hurting again and my hand burning, and about the dream that had awoken us both... but I really didn't want to worry them just now, not when I was feeling so happy and peaceful. No use worrying them over nothing.

"Look at the time," Mrs. Weasley said suddenly, checking her wristwatch. "You really should be in bed, the whole lot of you - you'll be up at the crack of dawn to get to the Cup. Harry, Tara, if you two leave your school lists out, I'll get your things for you tomorrow in Diagon Alley. Julia and I will be getting everyone else's. She'll meet you later tomorrow night at the World Cup. There might not be time after the World Cup anyway, the match went on for five days last time."

"Wow - hope it does this time!" Harry said enthusiastically.

"It was over a week when I went in the States," I said.

Harry and Ron exchanged a look before gasping, "Awesome!"

A week of watching the best Quidditch players in the world... I couldn't wait. "Well, I certainly don't," Percy said sanctimoniously. "I shudder to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was away from work for five days."

"Cauldrons are keeping you that busy, eh?" I asked only half-teasingly.

"Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?" Fred asked.

"That was a sample of fertilizer from Norway!" Percy shouted, going very red in the face. "It was nothing personal!"

"It was," Fred whispered to Harry and me as we got up from the table. "We sent it."

That sent us into a fit of giggles. "Brilliant, boys," I whispered to the twins.

"Time for bed!" Mrs. Weasley called.

Everyone stood from the tables and moved towards the stairs to go to bed. I yawned softly. It had been a long few days. Mrs. Weasley offered to clean the tables since she was the only one who wasn't going to have to start moving around first thing tomorrow morning. I gave everyone a quick hug as I headed off. Charlie and Bill were the first up to the twins' room along with Percy to his own. Hermione and Ginny passed me to head up to her room as I hung back. I wanted to talk to Fred and George before I went to sleep.

Ron and Harry were hanging back, too. I gave them both bear hugs as they headed to sleep. I figured that they wouldn't actually go to bed for hours with the twins also in the room. George lifted me off of the ground as he hugged me. I went to pull him off to the side when he was called upstairs by Percy, who seemed to be blaming him for something having been done to his bed. I started laughing again as Fred fell into step with me, running off. Apparently, he was the real culprit. The two of us ducked under the staircase and hid from Percy.

As we hung back around the banister, I turned to Fred. "You didn't tell me that your mother was quite as upset about Weasley's Wizard Wheezes as she really is. I didn't realize things had gotten as bad over the summer as they had," I said softly.

"It's alright, Tara. She just doesn't understand," Fred said carelessly.

"Maybe. But she will. She'll understand and believe in you two. Just the way that I do," I said sweetly.

Fred arched a brow curiously. "The way you do, huh?"

I groaned. "Oh, don't make me regret saying that to you."

"You really believe that this will work?"

There was something vulnerable in his voice that broke my heart. "You two might be complete fools half the time, but I genuinely believe that you're two of the smartest people I've ever met. You have as much drive as Percy does - you just use it in a different way. There's nothing wrong with that. Your mother will see that soon enough. In the meantime, you've always got me," I teased.

Fred was quiet for a long time before saying, "I can't believe you just compared me to Percy."

My eyes narrowed. "That's what you gathered from that?" I snapped.

"Thank you, Tara. That means a lot," Fred said honestly.

"Wow... I think that's the most serious I've ever heard you," I said.

"What can I say? You bring out a new side of me," Fred joked.

Or maybe it wasn't a complete joke. He seemed a little bit serious about it. I smiled at Fred as I blew out a puff of breath, trying to brush off his constant teasing. It sounded like Percy was done yelling at George so the two of us turned to head back to bed. We marched up the stairs slowly as we came to the landing with Ginny's bedroom. Fred grinned and gave me a hug, pressing a small kiss against my cheek, as he had done so many times before. My stomach gave the slightest jolt as Fred pulled away and turned to head off towards Ron's room.

Before he could get too far, I called after him. "Hey! You go finding some new girlfriend and bring her in as a partner in this whole thing and replace me, I'll hunt you down and kick your ass."

Fred grinned, shaking his head. "Nah. No one can ever replace you. As much as we might want them to."

"Funny," I snapped.

We both smiled at each other. "You know... the moonlight is nice and romantic -"

"Stop it," I barked. He constantly did stupid things like that to me. "Gonna keep messing with me?"

"Who said I was messing with you?" Fred asked.

It was the smile that he was giving me right now. That was the reason that I always thought he was messing with me. That damn playful grin. "The only time I can recall you being serious is when you thought that Ginny was going to die down in the Chamber of Secrets. Other than that, you've been a complete moron," I said.

"That's not nice," Fred teased.

"Who said I was nice?" I shot back.

The two of us stared at each other for a minute before we started laughing hysterically. For a moment I thought about running off to Ginny's room to get away from the somewhat awkward air but I relaxed and leaned over to shove Fred. Unfortunately, he was much steadier on his feet than I was. I had wanted him to fall, but instead, I did. Fred managed to lean over and catch me at the last moment. He didn't instantly release me. Instead, I found myself wrapped in his arms. I was a little startled by what had just happened. Why was it so strange for me to be standing so close to him?

"Who's still on the stairs?" Mrs. Weasley's voice called.

The two of us instantly shot apart. "We are, mum!" Fred called awkwardly.

"Both of you should be getting to bed. You'll be leaving at first light," Mrs. Weasley called.

"Sorry. Mrs. Weasley. We're heading to bed now. Goodnight!" I yelled into her.

"Goodnight!" she responded.

The two of us turned and headed back up to the bedrooms. On our way, I shoved into Fred roughly. "Look what you've done! Gone and gotten the both of us in trouble," I teased.

"That was your fault!" Fred shot back.

And it really was my fault. I was the one who had pushed him and ended up falling into his arms, making Mrs. Weasley hear us. We both laughed and I let out a deep breath. I was glad that things seemed to be getting back to normal with the two of us. We stopped on the landing for Ginny's room and I turned to Fred. We exchanged a quick and friendly hug before I moved into Ginny's room - which I was sharing with Hermione - and Fred headed up to Ron's. Thankfully that funny feeling I'd had earlier was gone.

As I wandered into Ginny's room, I grabbed my things and slipped into the bathroom. Hermione and Ginny were already ready for bed. After I had pulled up my hair, changed into my pajamas, and washed my face and teeth, I hung in front of the mirror. I reached down into my pajama shirt and pulled out the locket that showed my happiest memories. At first, much to my surprise, it was a brief frame of Fred and myself. We were standing on the staircase together, much closer than I had originally thought that we were standing.

It then shifted to a frame of myself laying on the couch with Cedric in my house over the summer, kissing, right before my parents had walked in. That seemed a little more likely. I laughed softly as I closed the locket and slipped it back into my shirt. I had almost forgotten about that day. But still... there was something odd about the first frame. It was very rare that I saw anyone other than Cedric, Harry, Ron, or Hermione in the locket. Occasionally my parents slipped in. I had never seen Fred. Where did that one even come from?

"Where were you?" Ginny asked as I walked back into the bedroom.

"Plotting with the twins," I teased.

For some reason, I didn't mention that I had only been with Fred. "That's never good," Ginny giggled.

"Oh, it'll be fine for everyone other than Percy," I said.

It surprised me that even Hermione laughed at that one. She might have believed in hard work and studies, but even she thought that Percy was a little bit stuck-up. And he was. The three of us laughed for a few minutes as we all slipped into our beds. Ginny plopped into her own as I took one of the beds that had been placed on the floor. Hermione took the other. I wrapped a blanket around myself as I turned to face the other two. The need to mess with Ginny was stronger than ever before.

"In other news, you never mentioned that Bill is kind of hot," I said quietly.

"Ew!" Ginny gasped.

We all laughed. "Actually... he kind of is," Hermione whispered.

That was all that it took. The three of us began laughing hysterically, tucking our faces into our pillows to keep anyone from hearing us. Ginny gave both of us a disgusted look. Of course, that was our brother. I just couldn't help it. Bill was kind of hot and I knew that it would get to her if I said it. I smiled at Ginny as we all relaxed and began gossiping about anything and everything under the sun that had happened this summer. I knew that I would be exhausted in the morning, but I didn't care. I was finally back home.


	6. Chapter Six

It felt as though I had barely lain down to sleep in Ginny's room when I was being shaken awake by Mrs. Weasley. It had definitely been a bad idea to stay awake with Ginny and Hermione for a few hours - most of which had been spent gossiping about Cedric and the other boys that we found attractive in Hogwarts. Now I was regretting that decision. I buried my face in the pillows, desperate for a few more minutes of sleep. Judging by the lack of light in the room, I assumed that it was still the middle of the night. It was saying something that even Hermione wasn't up yet.

"Time to go, Tara, dear," Mrs. Weasley whispered, moving away to wake Ginny.

"Already?" I mumbled drunkenly.

"Yes. Get dressed and don't go back to sleep," Mrs. Weasley warned.

Five minutes... I just needed five more minutes. "Damn, it's early," I growled.

At least when we were in the United States, Dad had prime tickets. We only had to show up a few minutes before game time. Not this time, unfortunately. I rolled over in the bed, practically flopping onto the wooden floor, and sat up. As I had expected, it was still dark outside. Ginny muttered indistinctly as her mother roused her. She was about as good with morning's as I was. At the foot of my mattress I saw one rather small, disheveled shape emerging from tangles of blankets. Even Hermione looked a little bit surprised to have to be waking up this early.

She was quick to get to her feet as I rolled back over onto the bed. "'S' time already?" Ginny asked groggily.

As I drove my head back into the pillows, Hermione plopped herself onto my bed. I groaned and kicked at her to leave me alone. "Come on," Hermione hissed.

"How are you so awake?" I groaned.

"I've always been an early riser. You know that," Hermione pointed out.

That was true. In our First Year of Hogwarts, Hermione had woken us all up three hours early. But the sun had been up, at least. "Not this early," I snapped.

Hermione groaned, fed up with me. "Get up!" she barked, whacking me on the shoulder. "Don't go back to sleep."

"Oh, Mione…"

This was one fight that I wasn't going to win. So, I dropped out of the bed into a backflip and began stumbling around the room. Hermione looked rather impressed but said nothing. Her eyes had dark circles underneath them that were enough to tell me that she was as tired as I was. She just wasn't going to let me know. I grabbed my overnight bag, changed into a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans, ran a brush through my hair, and quickly pulled on my shoes. Thankfully the twins hadn't done anything to them while I had been asleep - as they were known to do.

Hermione and Ginny dressed in their own clothes in silence, all of us too sleepy to talk, then, yawning and stretching, I decided to get ahead of the curve. The two of them weren't done getting ready for the trip but I knew that if I waited in the bedroom, I was going to end up asleep all over again. Letting the girls know that I was heading down for breakfast, I slowly made my way downstairs - trying to be very careful to not fall face-first down them from exhaustion - and wandered into the kitchen. It looked like I had made it there just moments after the boys.

Mrs. Weasley was stirring the contents of a large pot on the stove, while Mr. Weasley was sitting at the table, checking a sheaf of large parchment tickets. Harry, Ron, Fred, and George looked just about as tired as I was. I smiled weakly at them and fell into their step. Mr. Weasley looked up as the five of us entered and spread his arms so that we could see his clothes more clearly. He was wearing what appeared to be a golfing sweater and a very old pair of jeans, slightly too big for him and held up with a thick leather belt. It was an eclectic mixture.

"Come here," I hissed at Fred.

"What?" he asked, looking surprised.

He probably thought that I was planning on yelling at him. "Just come here," I goaded.

Harry was too short and Ron looked even weaker than I was right now. George had already walked off to get himself breakfast, so he was useless. Fred walked over suspiciously and, as he finally came to stand next to me, I leaned against him to get a few more minutes of sleep. I really shouldn't have stayed up so late with Ginny and Hermione. It was definitely a bad idea. I must have ended up only getting two or three hours of sleep. Fred didn't seem bothered by my using him as a mattress. In fact, after a few moments, his head drooped down against my own.

"What do you think? We're supposed to go incognito - do I look like a Muggle, Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Yeah, very good," Harry said, smiling.

And he actually did. He just looked like a rather nerdy father who was on his way to play golf. It was better than I would have thought that he could do. "It looks wonderful," I said truthfully.

Mr. Weasley smiled at me gratefully and said, "Excellent."

We smiled back. Mr. Weasley was definitely the most excited person right now. I didn't understand how he was awake. I figured that Dad would be grumpy once he got here. He was about as much of a morning person as I was. Coffee would have been much appreciated right now, but unfortunately, the Weasley's preferred tea. So I settled for a few extra minutes of sleep. Fred's arm rested over my shoulder as the two of us slipped in between being awake and asleep while still concentrating on not falling. I was almost asleep again when Fred started to poke my shoulder.

He spoke before I could get a chance to snap at him to leave me alone and let me sleep. "Hey. What were you saying happened with Diggory?" Fred asked curiously.

Now that woke me up. "What?" I asked dumbly, lifting my head from his shoulder.

"You mentioned something last time we were on the phone. Did something happen?" Fred asked.

That's right... I had mentioned that I didn't want my parents thinking that I was talking to Cedric when I had been talking with them on the phone yesterday. Fred was staring at me. I debated on not saying anything - since it was a little embarrassing that my parents were keeping such a close eye on me and I knew that he would make fun of me for it - but I decided to tell him anyway. Even if I didn't mention anything, Harry or Ron would likely tell him. And, if not them, I was sure that Dad would make some mention of his dislike for Cedric during the World Cup.

"My parents caught us," I said, as simply as possible.

Fred's eyes widened. He stared at me questioningly and I nodded. "Bet you heard about it," Fred said slowly.

"Just about the same way that you did from your mother about Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Yeah, I got a good reaming for it. Mom has since calmed down but Dad's still on the warpath. Wanted us to break it off," I explained.

The two of us were quiet for a little while. I was leaned up against Fred's chest so it was easy to feel the tenseness in his stance. I felt the slightest bit bad about the conversation. I knew that Fred didn't like Cedric and never really liked talking about him. But I had to say something about it because I knew someone would bring it up once we got to the World Cup. Dad would, at least. The room went quiet again as Fred processed what I had just told him. I wasn't sure if he was going to take it seriously or make a joke.

"Let me take a guess and say you're not going to do that," Fred suggested.

It turned out that he was going to be serious. "No. I'm not," I said honestly.

"You're going to make things worse," Fred said.

"Are you going to stop making the joke shop?" I shot back.

Fred was quiet for a few moments as he thought. "Point taken," he finally said. I nodded. "So, you and Diggory? Things still going well?"

These were always awkward conversations. "We haven't seen each other much over the past few days but we spent a lot of the summer together. Things were good right up until that point," I explained. Fred nodded, still looking bitter about my relationship with Cedric, as always. "What about you? Find any girls that suit your fancy?"

His lips turned up in a grin. "Too many to count."

I rolled my eyes. "You're a pig."

The thought of Fred with that many girls sent a spike of... disgust? Was that what it was? I wasn't quite sure. "Just kidding," Fred teased, throwing an arm over the front of my shoulder. I knocked back into him roughly, making him laugh. "We'll have to wait and see who's good enough."

"And the head continues to grow," I teased.

The one big difference between Fred and George was that Fred was definitely more confident than his twin. George was, too, but Fred was a little more outspoken about it. We both laughed as we went back to leaning up against the couch. Fred leaned up against the edge of the couch as I leaned back against him. I was propped in between his legs, resting back against his chest again. His arms folded over my shoulders and rested against my stomach. I was almost back asleep when someone spoke again.

"Where are Bill and Charlie and Per-Per-Percy?" George asked, failing to stifle a huge yawn.

"Well, they're Apparating, aren't they?" Mrs. Weasley explained, heaving the large pot over to the table and starting to ladle porridge into bowls. "So they can have a bit of a lie-in."

"Damn them," I growled.

They were lucky that they got to sleep in. I wished that we could Apparate to the World Cup. But I assumed that they didn't want to have Harry and Hermione going with us that way. They would likely hate it. Harry looked quite confused. From what I had told him, he knew that Apparating meant disappearing from one place and reappearing almost instantly in another. Seeing as we hadn't known any Seventh Years, he had never known any Hogwarts student to do it, especially since it was very difficult. My parents were able to do it, but he'd only seen them do it once.

"So they're still in bed?" Fred asked grumpily. He pushed off of the couch and pulled me back toward the dining table. I dropped in between Harry and Ron. I pulled my bowl of porridge toward me. "Why can't we Apparate too?"

"Because you're not of age and you haven't passed your test," Mrs. Weasley snapped.

She was clearly still upset with them for their stunt with Dudley. I turned to the twins with an arched brow. They were only sixteen. "You realize that you have to be seventeen to even take the test, right?" I asked the twins.

"Yeah, yeah," George huffed, waving me off.

"And where have those girls got to?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Where did Hermione and Ginny go? I assumed that Ginny was taking forever to get ready and Hermione was trying to get her out of the bedroom. It was rare that I was ready before either one of them. But I supposed that it was because, as tired as I was, I was still incredibly excited to get to the World Cup. Mrs. Weasley bustled out of the kitchen and I heard her climbing the stairs. She likely wasn't going to be happy with the fact that she would have to wake the girls up twice. Even the boys were already up, after all.

"You have to pass a test to Apparate?" Harry asked.

"Trust me, it's for the best," I said honestly.

"Oh yes," Mr. Weasley added, tucking the tickets safely into the back pocket of his jeans. "The Department of Magical Transportation had to fine a couple of people the other day for Apparating without a license. It's not easy, Apparition, and when it's not done properly it can lead to nasty complications. This pair I'm talking about went and splinched themselves."

Oh man... It was always disgusting to have to see people who were splinched. I had seen hundreds of cases of splinching when I had been back in the United States and Mom had worked in St. Dorin's. Whenever I would visit her we would normally see at least three cases. It happened to more people than I had initially realized. Everyone around the table except Harry winced. The last case that I had seen was of a young woman who had tried without a license and had lost half of her torso for almost a week before they'd been able to make her whole again.

"Er - splinched?" Harry asked.

"They left half of themselves behind," Mr. Weasley explained, now spooning large amounts of treacle onto his porridge. "So, of course, they were stuck. Couldn't move either way. Had to wait for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad to sort them out. Meant a fair old bit of paperwork, I can tell you, what with the Muggles who spotted the body parts they'd left behind..."

Splinching was the one reason that I never wanted to try Apparating. I was definitely afraid of that ever happening to me. It seemed very painful and horribly frightening. But I had done Side-Apparating with Mom and Dad before. The worst part of that was the fact that you normally vomited after trying it for the first time. Harry looked very much like he was about to be sick. I had a sudden vision of a pair of legs and an eyeball lying abandoned on the pavement of Privet Drive. A leg was much more likely.

"Was it a leg?" I asked Mr. Weasley curiously.

"And an arm, I believe," he responded thoughtfully.

"Always with the legs and arms..." I muttered.

"Were they okay?" Harry asked, startled.

"Oh yes. But they got a heavy fine, and I don't think they'll be trying it again in a hurry. You don't mess around with Apparition. There are plenty of adult wizards who don't bother with it. Prefer brooms - slower, but safer," Mr. Weasley said matter-of-factly.

"But Bill and Charlie and Percy can all do it?" Harry asked.

"Charlie had to take the test twice," Fred said, grinning.

"Did he really?" I asked curiously.

From the way Mrs. Weasley spoke about Charlie, I would have never guessed that he'd ever failed the Apparition test. "Yeah. He failed the first time, Apparated five miles south of where he meant to, right on top of some poor old dear doing her shopping, remember?" Fred explained.

I snorted under my breath. "At least he didn't get splinched," I pointed out.

That was a surefire way to fail the test. "Yes, well, he passed the second time," Mrs. Weasley snapped, marching back into the kitchen amid hearty sniggers from everyone.

"Percy only passed two weeks ago. He's been Apparating downstairs every morning since, just to prove he can," George said.

Naturally, he would do something like that. "Now that's annoying," I said honestly. Apparating was horribly loud; there was a crack each time someone did it. "Can't we Side-Apparate?"

"Too many kids with only two adults," Mr. Weasley explained.

That made sense. It would take forever to get everyone out to the World Cup. "That's alright. I guess Side-Apparating is kind of terrible anyway," I muttered, going back to my coffee.

"What's that?" Harry asked curiously.

"You hang onto someone's hand who can Apparate fully. They end up dragging you with them," I explained. Harry nodded thoughtfully. "I've done it before and it always makes you feel like you'll be sick. But it's faster."

Harry blanched slightly. "I'll take walking, thank you."

We both giggled softly as we went back to our breakfasts. I was about to continue eating some of my porridge when Fred reached over and stole it. I whacked him over the head in aggravation and moved to steal George's. He swiped it from me before I could and shifted down a few seats. I rolled my eyes and settled on just drinking my coffee. There were footsteps down the passageway and Hermione and Ginny came into the kitchen, both looking pale and drowsy. Perhaps Hermione was a little more tired than I had originally pegged her for.

"What took you two so long?" I asked them.

Hermione ignored me, walking into the kitchen to get her breakfast. Ginny looked like she hadn't even heard me. "Why do we have to be up so early?" Ginny asked, rubbing her eyes and sitting down at the table.

"We've got a bit of a walk," Mr. Weasley said.

My head shot up. "Walk? What, are we walking to the World Cup?" Harry asked.

There was no way that we were walking to the World Cup. "No, no, that's miles away. We only need to walk a short way," Mr. Weasley explained, smiling at our confusion. "It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup -"

"George!" Mrs. Weasley snapped sharply, and we all jumped.

"What?" George asked, in an innocent tone that deceived nobody.

"What is that in your pocket?"

"Nothing!"

"Don't you lie to me!" Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at George's pocket and said, "Accio!"

Several small, brightly colored objects zoomed out of George's pocket. I gasped softly as I stared at them. She hadn't managed to destroy all of the toffees. They had still been hiding some of them. If I knew them, those were the only ones that they had left. And I had to make sure that Mrs. Weasley didn't destroy all of their hard work over the past few months. George made a grab for the toffees but missed, and they sped right into Mrs. Weasley's outstretched hand. I turned toward Fred, who looked horrified.

"Give me one," I whispered to him.

"What?" Fred asked dumbly.

"Now!" I snapped.

"Here."

Unless they wanted each one of the toffees to get destroyed, they were going to have to trust me to hang on to at least one of them. Fred dug through his own pocket and pulled one out. I rolled my eyes, having known that he'd also have one. I grabbed the small piece of toffee and tucked it down into the pocket of my jeans. I knew that Mrs. Weasley was planning on destroying all of the ones that she would find on them. If I could save at least one of the toffees, I would be doing the twins a massive favor.

"We told you to destroy them!" Mrs. Weasley shouted furiously, holding up what were unmistakably more Ton-Tongue Toffees. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!"

It was an unpleasant scene all around. Mrs. Weasley looked furious, the twins looked like they were going to kill their mother, and Mr. Weasley looked like he was unsure of who to try and help. The kids seemed torn in between laughing and looking terrified. It was evident to everyone that the twins had been trying to smuggle as many toffees out of the house as possible, likely to give them too Lee Jordan, who would also be at the World Cup, and it was only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs. Weasley managed to find them all.

"Accio! Accio! Accio!" she shouted, and toffees zoomed from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George's jacket and the turn-ups of Fred's jeans.

Even I had to admit that their hiding spots were rather clever. "We spent six months developing those!" Fred shouted at his mother as she threw the toffees away.

"Oh, a fine way to spend six months! No wonder you didn't get more O.W.L.s!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked.

It looked like the twins were about to continue shouting at their mother, but I didn't want to make things even worse. I stomped on Fred and George's feet to keep them from yelling even more. They didn't look very happy with me but ultimately decided to let it go. Breakfast became a near silent affair after that. The twins sulked around angrily at the table as they continued their breakfast. Everyone else ate slowly and awkwardly. After a few minutes, I reached out and kicked George gently in the shin. He glanced up and I motioned under the table, showing him the toffee in my hand.

The twins both grinned as I mouthed, "Act upset."

They both nodded and went back their meals. I could tell that the sour looks they still had on their faces were real. They might have been happy that I had saved one toffee, but it would still take forever to remake everything that they'd originally had. I spent a long time sipping on my coffee when I finally heard a loud crack from the living room. I supposed that my parents had finally made their way to the Burrow. I glanced up and saw that I was right. Mom and Dad were standing in the middle of the living room.

"Good morning, everyone," Dad said happily, walking into the kitchen.

"Morning, Dad," I responded.

He walked up and pressed a kiss on the top of my head. I stomped on Fred's foot as he began making kissy noises at me. "Ready to head to the World Cup?" Dad asked, greeting Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"Always," I said.

Mom walked over next. She gave me a quick hug. A moment later she pressed a kiss to Mr. Weasley's cheek and hugged Mrs. Weasley. "Good morning, Molly. Arthur," Mom greeted.

"Morning, Julia," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Good to see you, Jules," Mr. Weasley greeted.

"I'll be meeting you all at the World Cup a little later," Mom told me. I nodded at her. "For now, I'll be heading into Diagon Alley with Molly to help get everyone's school supplies. Need anything else?"

"Maybe a few new quills and some more black ink," I said.

"Okay."

Dad glanced around at our large group and smiled, taking a seat with Mom in between Mr. and Mrs. Weasley on the other end of the table. "This is about the quietest I've ever heard this bunch," Dad commented.

"Give them a few hours to wake up," Mr. Weasley chuckled.

He was right. We would all be back to our normal pain-in-the-ass selves once we were fully awake. "Ready to see the World Cup?" Dad asked.

"You know it," I chirped happily. "Does it start tonight?"

"Just after sundown," Dad explained.

"Cool." I sipped on a fresh coffee placed down by Mrs. Weasley for a while before something dawned on me. "Hey," I called over to Dad. He glanced up from his breakfast. "What's the big thing that the Ministry's got to have organized after the World Cup?"

"Heard about that, did you?" Dad asked curiously.

"Percy mentioned something about it. Apparently, he's been trying to get them to ask all summer what it is. I don't want to give him the satisfaction, so I asked you," I explained.

Considering that he had planned the Quidditch World Cup, I assumed that once this was done, he would move on to whatever the new thing was. "You'll see once you get to Hogwarts. You're not old enough to participate anyway. It'll just be something fun to watch," Dad said.

"Does it have to do with Quidditch?" I asked.

"No," Dad said.

"Then I don't care," I said.

If I couldn't participate in whatever the thing was and it had nothing to do with Quidditch, I really didn't care. It was probably some stupid thing that Percy was pretending was a big deal. Mom and Dad didn't look the slightest bit excited about it. Dad grinned over at me as I reached over and stole a piece of bacon off of Fred's plate. He scowled at me but let me have it. At the moment, I didn't have the energy to fight anyway. I just wanted to go back to sleep and Side-Apparate later. I was way too tired to be doing anything right now. Even eating.

We all sat together for about twenty minutes before it was finally time to leave. We packed up our things - enough to keep us for a few days - and moved to leave. All in all, the atmosphere was not very friendly as we all took our departure from the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley was still glowering as she kissed Mr. Weasley on the cheek, though not nearly as much as the twins, who had each hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and walked out without a word to her. I rolled my eyes at them. They could at least try to be nice.

"Well, have a lovely time," Mrs. Weasley said.

I stopped for a moment to give her a quick hug. "See you in a few days," I said.

She smiled at me. "And behave yourselves," Mrs. Weasley called after the twins' retreating backs, but they did not look back or answer.

I dashed after the twins. "At least say goodbye," I snapped at them.

"No," they both said.

"Come on, I spared one of the toffees," I pointed out.

"And we appreciate that," Fred said.

"But we spent months making those. It cost a lot of money and took forever. You saved one but we've lost hundreds," George finished.

And I understood that. But they couldn't hate their mother forever. "I'll help make more of them," I offered, not wanting them to be too upset with her. "Don't worry, boys. She'll come around."

The twins gave me a sad smile before walking off. They were ahead of everyone else. I let out a soft breath as I watched them leave. They clearly weren't happy right now. I felt terribly for them. The thing that they loved the most was being taken away by one of the people that they loved most. It must have not been easy for them. I headed back to the doorway, deciding to just let the twins leave. I would figure out a way for them to get back in with their mother. In the meantime, I walked back to my own.

"Have fun," Mom said, grabbing me in a tight hug. "See you in a few hours."

"See you later," I said.

"I'll send Bill, Charlie, and Percy along around midday," Mrs. Weasley said to Mr. Weasley.

Just a moment later, he, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and I set off across the dark yard after Fred and George. It was chilly and the moon was still out. Only a dull, greenish tinge along the horizon to our right showed that daybreak was drawing closer. Normally I wouldn't have been awake for at least another three hours. I arched a brow as we walked. I was freezing and tired. Where the hell were we actually going? The World Cup in England wasn't like it was in the States. It didn't have an actual stadium that was built permanently.

How were we all going to find a place for thousands and thousands of wizards to go for a Quidditch World Cup in the middle of a Muggle community? "Where are we actually going?" Harry asked us.

"Don't know," Ron responded. "Hey, Dad! Where are we going?"

"Haven't the foggiest, keep up!" Mr. Weasley called back.

"Dad?" I asked.

"The Portkey. Shouldn't be too far from here. Just a few miles," he replied.

I'd taken a Portkey three times before and I'd hated them each time more than the last. "Portkey? Really?" I groaned.

"You love traveling by Portkey," Dad teased.

"I hate traveling by Portkey. I always fall," I growled.

"Right..." Dad hummed thoughtfully. "It's me that loves watching you travel by Portkey."

"Ah, funny," I snapped.

Harry sped up to walk next to Mr. Weasley. I followed him a moment later, also curious. "So how does everyone get there without all the Muggles noticing?" Harry asked Mr. Weasley.

"It's been a massive organizational problem. The trouble is, about a hundred thousand wizards turn up at the World Cup, and of course, we just haven't got a magical site big enough to accommodate them all. There are places Muggles can't penetrate, but imagine trying to pack a hundred thousand wizards into Diagon Alley or platform nine and three-quarters. So we had to find a nice deserted moor and set up as many anti-Muggle precautions as possible. The whole Ministry's been working on it for months. Tara's mother and father included.

"First, of course, we have to stagger the arrivals. People with cheaper tickets have to arrive two weeks beforehand. A limited number use Muggle transport, but we can't have too many clogging up their buses and trains - remember, wizards are coming from all over the world. Some Apparate, of course, but we have to set up safe points for them to appear, well away from Muggles. I believe there's a handy wood they're using as the Apparition point. For those who don't want to Apparate, or can't, we use Portkey's.

"They're objects that are used to transport wizards from one spot to another at a prearranged time. You can do large groups at a time if you need to. There have been two hundred Portkey's placed at strategic points around Britain, and the nearest one to us is up at the top of Stoatshead Hill, so that's where we're headed," Mr. Weasley explained.

Of all of the things that we were planning on using, I couldn't believe that we were going to travel there by Portkey. I had always hated using them. My balance was bad enough. I had a feeling that I was still going to fall, even if I had gained some balance in the past few years since I'd used one. Mr. Weasley pointed ahead of us, where a large black mass rose beyond the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. I assumed that it was the hill that we were heading to, likely where the Ministry had placed the Portkey that we would be using.

"What sort of objects are Portkey's?" Harry asked curiously.

"Well, they can be anything. Unobtrusive things, obviously, so Muggles don't go picking them up and playing with them... stuff they'll just think is litter..." Mr. Weasley explained.

Together our large party trudged down the dark, dank lane toward the village, the silence was broken only by our footsteps. Not only was I unhappy about all of the walking that we were doing, but I was also pissed at how cold it was. It was the summer and felt like a winter back in Florida. The sky lightened very slowly as we made our way through the village, its inky blackness diluting to deepest blue. We had to have been walking for at least an hour. It felt like it, at least. My hands and feet were freezing. Mr. Weasley kept checking his watch.

It was likely going to be sunrise by the time we made it to the Portkey. I planted myself in between Harry and Ron eventually, throwing my arms over their shoulders. Partially to keep myself upright - since I was exhausted - and partially because the two of them provided a little bit of body warmth. I knew that the two of them - just like I was - were very tired. Everyone was. Both from the long walk to the Portkey and from having to wake up this early. It was all made even worse by the abnormally bitter morning air.

No one had any breath to spare for talking as we began to climb Stoatshead Hill. We were exhausted and grumpy anyway. No one really wanted to talk or had anything to say. As I walked along, I found myself stumbling occasionally in hidden rabbit holes or slipping on thick black tufts of grass. In all honesty, I was surprised that I hadn't twisted my ankles from how many times I had slipped. Each breath I took was sharp in my chest and my legs were starting to seize up when, at last, my feet found level ground. Oliver Wood's workouts were nothing compared to this.

"Please tell me we're nearly there," I gasped.

"Whew," Mr. Weasley panted, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater. "Well, we've made good time - we've got ten minutes..."

This was definitely the worst time that I'd ever had on the way to something I'd been so excited for. Now I really wished that we could have just Side-Apparated to the Quidditch World Cup. That would have been much easier. I would have taken vomiting once over having to deal with our walk this early in the morning. Hermione came over the crest of the hill last, clutching a stitch in her side. She instantly came to my side, throwing an arm over my shoulder. I almost collapsed with her added weight.

"And you thought laps with Oliver Wood were bad," Harry wheezed to me.

"At least those were on level ground," I sighed back.

"Now we just need the Portkey," Mr. Weasley said, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. "It won't be big... Come on..."

We really had to do something else after we had already walked what felt like thirty miles? We were likely only about two or three miles from the Burrow, but I was sure that everyone else was as exhausted as I was. Our large group spread out, searching for the Portkey. Of course, it would have helped if we'd known what the Portkey was. I saw a lot of grass and dirt, but nothing that stuck out to me. We had only been at it for a couple of minutes, thankfully, when a shout rent the still air.

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it! It's about time."

One tall figure was silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop. I glanced up curiously. I couldn't quite pick out who it was. They looked to be the slightest bit heavy-set and on the older side. From the voice, I assumed that it was a man. Otherwise, I couldn't tell. I could see Dad stiffen slightly. I arched a brow. What was the problem now? He seemed to have finally relaxed since everything had gone down with Cedric. What could possibly have gotten him all tensed up again?

"Amos!" Mr. Weasley called back amicably, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted.

My entire body stiffened as my eyes widened to the size of small saucers. Harry and Ron started laughing. The twins turned to me curiously. I could see Hermione and Ginny exchange a panicked look. Everyone looked much more awake now than they had been ten minutes ago. I couldn't believe that, of anyone we could have had to take the Portkey with, it was Cedric's father. And he had to be around here somewhere. He said that he was going to be at the World Cup. Dad looked about ready to break in half. Everyone followed, myself trailing in the back.

"Did you know that they would be here?" Dad hissed at Mr. Weasley.

The last thing that I needed was him getting anyone else involved in this. Mr. Weasley turned to Dad curiously. "What are you talking about?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Dad, leave it alone. Please," I whined. He was making things worse. "You're going to make a scene. Let's just have a good time."

"Sorry, Amos. Some of us had a bit of a sleepy start," Mr. Weasley called to Mr. Diggory.

As we walked up to him, Dad and Mr. Diggory exchanged a look. "Good to see you, Amos," Dad said tersely.

Did Mr. Diggory know what had happened? I assumed that Cedric must have told his father. "You too, Marcus. Hello again, Tara," Mr. Diggory said.

"Hi, Mr. Diggory," I replied.

It was the first time I had seen him in weeks. Mr. Diggory didn't like me over at his house with no one else around, so we weren't able to go to his house too often. Dad and Mr. Diggory exchanged a very quick handshake. What the hell was their problem now? Mr. Weasley then moved forward and shook hands with Mr. Diggory. I liked Cedric's father, but he was always a little too... I wasn't sure. There was just something odd about him. He was a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was currently holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand.

I'd always assumed that Cedric had gotten his looks from his mother. "This is Amos Diggory, everyone. He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," Mr. Weasley told most of the kids.

For a while, I glanced back and forth to see if I could find wherever Cedric was. The sooner that I could find him, the sooner that I could try and make a game plan. Or maybe Cedric wasn't actually coming to the World Cup this way. That would probably be for the best. At least Dad wouldn't have to see him this way and make things even worse. But he couldn't have Apparated. He wasn't old enough. Cedric managed to surprise everyone - myself included - when he dropped out of a tree mere inches from where I was standing. I jumped in surprise.

Mr. Weasley grinned at the newest addition. "And this strapping young lad must be Cedric, am I right?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Cedric replied.

It was the first time I had seen him in person since our awkward run-in with my parents in Diagon Alley. I was glad to see that he was smiling again and looked perfectly normal. Cedric moved forward to shake Mr. Weasley's hand. I turned back to see Ginny and Hermione give each other a little look before smiling at me. I blushed slightly. Clearly, they both agreed that he was attractive. I didn't blame them in the slightest. Cedric gave Dad a brief smile and nod as he walked over to me. I tensed slightly. What was about to happen?

"Good to see you again," Cedric greeted me.

He looked like he wanted to hug or kiss me, but he managed to refrain from doing either one of those things. "Part monkey now, are you?" I asked teasingly.

"Just couldn't resist startling you," Cedric said.

I huffed. "You did not -"

"Tara," Dad interrupted.

"What?" I asked.

"Come here."

Was he kidding? He had to be kidding. He wasn't going to start doing this to me at the World Cup with a ton of my friends around. "Are you joking?" I asked dully.

"No. Come here," Dad ordered.

Now I was going to be the biggest loser in the world. Fifteen years old and I couldn't even have a conversation with my boyfriend. We weren't even doing anything that time! I wasn't going to kiss him or even hug him. I had just settled for speaking to him. And I couldn't even have that. Cedric tried to smile at my father, but Dad didn't even crack a somewhat peaceful look back. I rolled my eyes at his pettiness and walked back over to my father, pissed beyond belief, and turned back to give Cedric a guilty look. He gave me an awkward smile back.

Everyone else looked the slightest bit uncomfortable, which I was sure they were. I scoffed at Dad, pulling away from him trying to throw an arm over my shoulder protectively. "And I think you know his son, Cedric?" Mr. Weasley continued.

Normally I would have laughed. But then I realized that Mr. Weasley likely didn't know that I was dating Cedric. I didn't think anyone had ever bothered telling him. That must have been why he still looked content with what was happening. Harry and Ron were scowling at him. Cedric Diggory just so happened to be an extremely handsome boy of seventeen. He was Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team at Hogwarts. He had also been my boyfriend since early last year and both Ron and Harry hated him for it.

"Tara knows him very well," George teased.

The others started laughing. Dad stiffened. I whipped around to George. "I should kill you," I hissed.

"Hi," Cedric said, looking around at us all.

He gave me a quick wink. I blushed and looked away, trying to pull even further out of my father's grasp. I didn't want to be anywhere near him right now. Everybody said hello back except Fred and George, who merely nodded. They had never quite forgiven Cedric for beating our team, Gryffindor, in the first Quidditch match of the previous year. Despite the fact that Cedric had tried to surrender the win, they were just bitter that we had lost either way. I knew that they also, like Ron and Harry, didn't like Cedric because we were dating.

"Long walk, Arthur?" Mr. Diggory asked.

"Not too bad. We live just on the other side of the village there. You?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced?" Mr. Diggory asked his son. Cedric nodded. "I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still... not complaining... Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons - and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy..."

Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny. His eyes passed over me. He had known me long enough to know that Mr. Weasley was just my friends' father. He also knew that my father only had me. I stared at Mr. Diggory awkwardly, feeling Dad's arms wrap a little tighter around me. Cedric gave me a quick glance before glancing away again almost immediately. I rolled my eyes again and stepped a few paces away from Dad. I wanted nothing to do with him right now.

"All these yours, Arthur? Except for Tara," Mr. Diggory said.

"Oh no, only the redheads," Mr. Weasley said, pointing out his children. "This is Hermione, a friend of Ron's - and Harry, another friend -"

"Merlin's beard," Mr. Diggory said, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

"Er - yeah," Harry muttered.

That was when I realized that Mr. Diggory had never met Harry before. Every time that he'd seen me with Cedric, I had been alone with him. I looked over at Harry curiously to see how he was taking it. Harry was used to people looking curiously at him when they met him, used to the way their eyes moved at once to the lightning scar on his forehead, but I knew that it always made him feel uncomfortable. Mr. Diggory didn't seem to notice how tense the air had gotten.

"Ced's talked about you, of course. Told us all about playing against you last year... I said to him, I said - Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will... You beat Harry Potter!" Mr. Diggory said amicably.

The air was definitely awkward now. I wished that I could walk over to Cedric and grab his hand. He looked like he was going to step in and tell his father to stop, but it was hard to stop Amos Diggory once he got started. I knew that well enough. I glanced over at Harry, who also looked like he wished that he could be anywhere else. It was easy to see that Harry couldn't think of any reply Mr. Diggory's statement, so he remained silent. Fred and George were both scowling again. Cedric looked slightly embarrassed.

"Harry fell off his broom, Dad. I told you... it was an accident..." Cedric muttered.

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" Mr. Diggory roared genially, slapping his son on his back. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman... but the best man won, I'm sure Harry would say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"

"Dementors flew into the match. I ended up almost killing Tara because I ran into her. It wasn't exactly the way that I wanted to win the match," Cedric mumbled.

"We'll get that fair rematch this year," I teased, winking at him. Cedric grinned. Dad scowled.

"Must be nearly time," Mr. Weasley said quickly, pulling out his watch again. He must have sensed the awkward air. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"

"No, the Lovegood's have been there for a week already and the Fawcett's couldn't get tickets. There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?" Mr. Diggory asked.

"Not that I know of," Mr. Weasley said. "Yes, it's a minute off... We'd better get ready..."

Holding onto a stupid muddy boot only to end up falling on my face in front of my boyfriend. Not to mention that my father was now treating me like I was three years old and wouldn't even let me have a conversation with Cedric. Yes, this day was getting better and better for me. I stayed back from the Portkey slightly. I wasn't touching that until it was time to leave. Harry and Hermione looked extremely confused. I prodded Mr. Weasley and motioned at them. Mr. Weasley looked around at Harry and Hermione.

"You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do."

As Harry and Hermione asked what was happening with the Portkey, I stepped back and fell in line with Cedric, who had been trailing behind us. I placed a hand on his arm. "You can tell he's really proud," I told him.

"He gets a bit much," Cedric sighed.

"He just embarrassed Harry. Looks like he embarrassed you, too," I said teasingly, noticing that his face was turning slightly red. "Don't worry about it. We all know that you're humble. It's a nice trait."

Cedric nodded thoughtfully, glancing back at my father. "I see your father's decided that he still doesn't like me," Cedric chuckled.

"Unfortunately not. But two more weeks and I won't have to see him for months," I groaned.

"He cares about you," Cedric pointed out.

Perhaps a little bit too much... "Look at you, being reasonable," I teased.

"One of us has to be," Cedric shot back. I giggled, watching the others head over to the Portkey. "We should go."

"Right," I said.

We both headed over towards the Portkey when Cedric put a hand out in front of me. "Hang on. While he's not paying attention," Cedric said, motioning to where my father was chatting amicably with Hermione. "Will you meet me before the match?"

"I thought you didn't want to meet until midnight? After the match?" I asked.

"Well, I can vanish until midnight if you want that," Cedric teased.

Any chance for me to sneak out and meet my boyfriend sounded like a good plan to me. "No. I'll find a way out," I said. Cedric smiled at me as we walked over to the others. "You know, you're getting more and more like me. Risking getting in trouble to sneak out for a little midnight rendezvous."

Cedric laughed. "You're rubbing off on me. By the way, are you rooting for Ireland?"

"Duh," I said, nudging him. Bulgaria wasn't that fascinating. Without Krum, they wouldn't have even made it to the World Cup finals. "Krum might be good and he's definitely got some flair, but he's got nothing on the entire Irish team. and, if they don't win, you will spend much of the night listening to me complain since I bet Ron that Ireland would win."

"Glad you're rooting for Ireland. Wouldn't be able to talk to you if you weren't," Cedric teased.

"And that would break my heart," I shot back.

My day wasn't complete until I made a little blow at Cedric's pride. He could afford it, considering that everyone loved him. He laughed and threw a small rock at me, deliberately missing. I chuckled softly, picking up a tuft of grass and throwing it back at him. I made sure to actually hit him. He grunted as it whacked into the side of his face. We were both madly laughing as Cedric darted over to me and wrapped an arm around my waist, tossing me over his shoulder and throwing me. I landed roughly and had just regained my footing when he caught me again.

He was about to throw me over his shoulder again when there was a call. "Tara. Enough," Dad snapped. We both glanced up, Cedric's hand hesitating on my waist. Dad's eyes locked onto it. Cedric instantly removed his hand. "Over here."

I was about to argue with him when Cedric disentangled the two of us. "Go on. I'll see you later," he said.

Muttering curses under my breath, I walked back over to my father and scowled at him. "I wish you weren't here," I snapped.

"That's a good way to earn back trust," Dad said.

"Should be. I'm being honest," I pointed out.

"Tara. Enough. I'll gladly send you back home," Dad said.

The moment I opened my mouth to make another nasty retort, Fred called, "Tara!"

I glanced up curiously. Fred was motioning me over to him. "Go ahead," Dad said.

I walked over to Fred with an arched brow. "What?" I asked.

"Oh, I didn't actually need anything, but things looked like they were getting a little heated. Couldn't have you getting sent home," Fred pointed out. I smiled at him, actually quite grateful that he'd stopped me from making things any worse. "Who else would I mess with?"

We both laughed. "Thanks, Freddie," I said, wrapping my arm around his waist.

"My pleasure."

Every now and again, Fred could actually be quite useful. Although I was sure he would prove me wrong soon enough. He would probably put worms in my pillow or glue in my pants. Something that would embarrass me for the next few weeks. Fred pushed me towards everyone else and I glanced up to see Cedric watching us. I smiled at him but distracted myself long enough to look away when Fred shoved me toward the Portkey. I laughed and turned around to shove Fred back.

Mostly everyone had already found their place around the Portkey. It didn't look easy. The boot was only so big and there were eleven of us. There wasn't much more room for me and Fred to take our own spots. It definitely wasn't going to be an easy prospect. This was always the worst part of taking a Portkey. There was never enough room. With great difficulty, owing to our bulky backpacks, the eleven of us crowded around the old boot held out by Mr. Diggory. Each one of us barely had a finger on it.

Like always, taking a Portkey was rather awkward. Standing far closer than I would have liked, in between Fred and Harry, we all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chilly breeze swept over the hilltop. Nobody spoke. It grew more awkward by the second. I just wanted to get my upcoming collapse over with. It suddenly occurred to me how odd this would look if a Muggle were to walk up here now... eleven people, three of them grown men, clutching this manky old boot in the semidarkness, waiting...

"Three..." Mr. Weasley muttered, one eye still on his watch, "two..."

That was when I realized that Harry didn't have his finger on the boot. "Harry!" I snapped.

His hand instantly shot to the boot. "One..."

It was just in time. The Portkey worked immediately: I felt as though a hook just behind my navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. It was very much like Apparating. My feet left the ground; I could feel Harry and Fred on either side of me, their shoulders banging into mine. Everyone began screaming. We were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color. It was a good thing that my forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling me magnetically onward because I was sure that my grip wasn't that strong.

The world was spinning all around me. I closed my eyes for a moment, sure that I was going to be sick. Portkey's would always be my absolute least favorite method of travel. There was a brilliant white flash all around me as the clouds began to form in my vision. We had to be getting close to wherever the World Cup was located. My feet whacked into Fred's as the Portkey started to make its descent. I groaned as everyone else began either screaming or cheering. I couldn't quite tell the difference right now.

"Let go kids!" Mr. Weasley called.

Were we really there already? "What?" Hermione gasped.

"Let! Go!" Mr. Weasley shouted.

Damn it... I could have used spinning for a few more seconds. I waited for Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, and Dad to release themselves from the Portkey. Cedric, Ginny, Fred, and George released next. Cedric gave me a little wink from across the Portkey as he did. If he could do it, be damned, I would do it too. Nodding for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to follow my lead, I released my grip on the Portkey, hoping that I might get a little lucky this time. Almost immediately I felt my feet slam against the ground; Harry staggered into me and he fell over. Ron followed a moment later.

The Portkey hit the ground near my head with a heavy thud. I stumbled away from where everyone had landed in a somewhat impressive spin. For a moment I thought that I might actually make it. But then I managed to trip over Ginny. My entire balance was thrown off as I practically collapsed against the ground. I was halfway to the ground when an arm wrapped around me and steadied me. I was about to thank my father - who I had assumed had caught me - when I realized that I was standing up against Cedric. We were both breathing heavily and panting from the trip.

My hands were tight on his arm, trying to keep myself from actually falling. I was still the slightest bit weak from my trip. My legs were threatening to cave in from underneath me. Cedric's hands were on my waist, keeping me from tripping back over Hermione. I looked off to the side for a brief moment to see what else had happened. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, Dad, Cedric and myself were still standing, though each of us looked very windswept; everybody else was on the ground.

"Makes up for last time, eh?" Cedric teased, referencing my Dementor collapse.

"Halfway," I responded.

There was a slight grin on my face. Neither one of us needed to say what we both wanted. I glanced up again to see what was happening. We were fine for right now. Cedric grinned, knowing that I wanted him to kiss me. We could manage it for right now. We only had a moment. Dad was currently in the process of helping Ginny back to her feet. One chance to do it. I smiled and leaned up, pressing a tiny kiss against Cedric's mouth. My stomach warmed slightly as I pulled back. I was about to kiss him again when something distracted me.

"Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill," a voice called.


	7. Bagman and Crouch

"I bet that cleared your sinuses eh?" Mr. Weasley teased.

The trip through the Portkey had cleared just about everything. My head was still spinning. Although that might have been from the kiss. Cedric dropped his hand from around my waist as I pulled away from him. We would have more of a chance to talk later. With Dad already done helping Ginny back to her feet, I couldn't risk him seeing the two of us together. I turned to help Hermione back to her feet. She looked a little more winded than anyone else. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Cedric helping Harry back to his feet. I smiled. Maybe they would learn to get along for my sake.

"Thanks," Harry told Cedric.

As I prepared to walk over to them, Dad's voice cut through the air. "Tara. Come here, please."

Harry and Cedric stared at me awkwardly as I whipped back around to my father, who looked completely serious. I placed my hands on my hips. "Are you joking?" I snapped. He merely stared at me. "Relax, Dad."

"We've discussed this. You have to work to earn our trust back," Dad said.

"I've already earned Mom's back," I muttered.

The others began walking away. "Come on, Tara. We're here at the Quidditch World Cup. We've wanted to be here for years! Let's try and have a good time together, alright?" Dad cried hopefully.

"Yeah," I said.

It would have been a lot more fun if I was allowed to interact with my boyfriend and friends freely. It took everyone a little while to disentangle themselves from the others and get to their feet. Once I was sure that everyone was okay, I looked around. We had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. It was strange. The States had an actual place for the Quidditch World Cup, whenever we held it. In England, they had to place it in the middle of Muggle land. Hence why it so rarely took place in England. It took too much effort and planning.

In front of us were a pair of tired and grumpy looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly: The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho. It took everything in me to keep from laughing. Harry and Hermione looked like they were also having problems keeping a straight face. I recognized the kilted wizard - I had seen him speaking to my parents before - but I wasn't sure who he was.

"Morning, Basil," Mr. Weasley said.

Yes, I'd definitely heard his name. I noticed that Dad was glaring at the older wizard. I could only assume that the two of them didn't get along very well. Mr. Weasley picked up the boot and handed it to the kilted wizard, Basil, who threw it into a large box of used Portkey's beside him. I arched a brow. I had never realized that so many witches and wizards really hated Apparating. Not that I blamed them. It was rather terrible. I looked into the box and grinned. I could see an old newspaper, an empty drink can and a punctured football.

"Hello there, Arthur," Basil greeted wearily. "Marcus."

"Basil," Dad said shortly.

"Not on duty, eh?" Basil asked Mr. Weasley, who shook his head. "It's all right for some… We've been here all night… You'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite… Weasley… Weasley…" He consulted his parchment list. "About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr. Roberts. Diggory… second field… ask for Mr. Payne."

Damn it... That meant a long walk to meet up with Cedric. "Good," Dad chirped happily.

"Really?" I hissed, whipping around to him. He might have had the right idea, but I was never going to admit that to him. "You seriously have that little trust in me?"

"Enough," he snapped back.

"Thanks, Basil," Mr. Weasley said.

He beckoned everyone to follow him. Without giving him a moment to say otherwise, I pushed past my father and headed up to the front of the line. I would have stopped near Cedric, but I knew that it would make things worse. He merely gave me a concerned look as I strode over to where Hermione and Ginny were. They both gave me strained smiles. I felt bad for making things so awkward, but I wasn't willing to roll over on this. Mom got over our relationship. Why couldn't Dad?

Hermione grabbed my arm and pulled me over to her. "You do realize that he's your father, right?" she hissed. I grunted in response. "He knows you better than anyone else here. He knows exactly what you were planning to do."

"What I'm still planning to do, Hermione," I corrected her. "And shut up!"

It was obvious that she was still trying to speak to me, but I was ignoring her. We set off across the deserted moor, unable to make out much through the mist. After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view. By the time that we saw it, everyone was panting. Beyond the cottage, I could just make out the ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field toward a dark wood on the horizon. We turned to say goodbye to the Diggory's.

"Parting of the waves, I think, old chap. See you at the match," Mr. Diggory said amicably to Mr. Weasley and my father.

"See you later, Cedric!" everyone else called.

As Dad and Mr. Weasley stopped for a quick word with Mr. Diggory, I fell back into step with Cedric, who grinned at me. "Sneak out after you get set up, alright?" I whispered.

"Alright, Trouble," Cedric teased.

He was right about one thing - I was definitely trouble. I had been since the day I was born. I grinned up at him as he flicked me in the nose. We both laughed as I walloped him over the head. We were both still chuckling under our breath as I walked off with the others - before Dad could realize that I'd just made plans to sneak off with him later. We approached the cottage door and I turned back, winking in Cedric's direction. He smiled back. We would definitely manage some time together later.

Once Cedric and his father had walked off, I turned back to see what was happening. A man was standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents. My eyebrow quirked curiously. I knew at a single glance that this was the only real Muggle for several acres. He looked completely normal. Normal clothes and a normal attitude. They really put the Quidditch World Cup in the middle of a Muggle campsite? What moron thought of that? I turned to Dad with a slight glare. He ignored me. When the Muggle heard our footsteps, he turned his head to look at us.

"Morning!" Mr. Weasley called brightly.

"Morning," the Muggle responded.

"Would you be Mr. Roberts?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Aye, I would. And who're you?" Mr. Roberts asked.

"Weasley - one tent, booked a couple of days ago?" Mr. Weasley said.

"And you?" Mr. Roberts asked Dad.

"Nox - one tent, booked a while back," Dad responded.

"Aye," Mr. Roberts said, consulting a list tacked to the door. “You two have two next-door spaces up by the wood there. Just the one night?"

"That's it," Mr. Weasley said.

"You'll be paying now, then?" Mr. Roberts asked.

"Prepaid," Dad said proudly.

Mr. Roberts nodded thoughtfully. Mom and Dad were some of the only magical people I knew who also owned a Muggle credit card. "Ah - right certainly -" Mr. Weasley stuttered awkwardly.

Honestly, I hadn't even realized that payment would be an issue. Most campsites I had been to back in the States were free. As Dad went to moving everyone's luggage around - clearly trying to hide some of our stranger items from Mr. Roberts - I turned to Mr. Roberts. He seemed very curious about our large group. Mr. Weasley retreated a short distance from the cottage nervously and beckoned Harry and me toward him. I stared at Harry. I wasn't sure what Mr. Weasley needed up for right now.

"Help me, Harry, Tara," Mr. Weasley muttered, pulling a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and starting to peel the notes apart.

I backed away regretfully. "Oh, sorry about that. I grew up in the United States. I know how to use American money, not English," I said honestly.

Having never had to purchase anything on my own in the Muggle world, I'd never bothered to learn the English currency system. That was why my parents had the credit card - so no one had to learn. "This one's a - a - a ten?" Mr. Weasley asked Harry nervously. "Ah yes, I see the little number on it now… So, this is a five?"

"A twenty," Harry corrected him in an undertone, as we were all uncomfortably aware of Mr. Roberts trying to catch every word. Harry then turned to me with an annoyed look. "Really? You've lived here for six years and you still don't know how to use Muggle money?"

"I'm a witch!" I hissed lowly. "Of course, I don't know how to use their money."

"Useless," Harry huffed.

I scowled at him. "Ah yes, so it is... I don't know, these little bits of paper…" Mr. Weasley continued to mutter.

"You foreign?" Mr. Roberts asked when Mr. Weasley returned with the correct notes.

"Foreign?" Mr. Weasley repeated, puzzled.

"You're not the first one who's had trouble with money," Mr. Roberts explained, scrutinizing Mr. Weasley closely. "I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."

Someone had really tried to pay with Galleons? I wondered who had done it and how they'd fixed it. Obliviate, more than likely. "Did you really?" Mr. Weasley asked nervously.

This really was so much easier the way we did it in the States. Now I understood why no one ever wanted to have the Quidditch World Cup in England. It was far too much effort. Mr. Roberts rummaged around in a tin for some change. I nervously moved forward. With my father preoccupied with the luggage situation, I knew that someone would have to do something. And I had just the plan. I stepped forward and cleared my throat, trying to accentuate the little bit of an American accent I still had left.

"Yes, we are foreigners, actually. This is my uncle and those are my cousins," I said, pointing around to the others. Mr. Roberts stared at me curiously. "We're from the United States." He nodded in understanding. "We're used to dollars. Sorry about that."

"Yeah, you sound it," Mr. Roberts said, in reference to my comment that we were from the United States. "What drew you out here?"

"Uh... I was born here. Moved to the States when I was young," I said awkwardly.

"Welcome back, then." I smiled at Mr. Roberts. "Never been this crowded," he said suddenly, looking out over the misty field again. "Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up…"

"Is that right?" Mr. Weasley asked, his hand held out for his change, but Mr. Roberts didn't give it to him.

He must have been remembering something that had already been Obliviated from his memory. "Aye. People from all over. Loads of foreigners. Some even from the States, just like you," Mr. Roberts said thoughtfully. For a moment I wondered if I might have known any of them. "And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking 'round in a kilt and a poncho."

"Shouldn't he?" Mr. Weasley asked anxiously.

"It's like some sort of… I don't know… like some sort of rally. They all seem to know each other. Like a big party," Mr. Roberts continued.

It was obvious to see the little beads of sweat on Mr. Weasley's forehead. Even I was getting a little nervous. Mr. Roberts must have been quite adept at beating the Memory Charm. Clearly, he was remembering a lot from what I could assume were previous Memory Charms. Mr. Weasley was motioning my dad over, who looked quite confused at what had happened in just a few minutes that he had left us alone. At that moment, a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin air next to Mr. Roberts's front door.

"Obliviate!" he said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr. Roberts.

Instantly, Mr. Roberts's eyes slid out of focus, his brows un-knitted, and a look of dreamy unconcern fell over his face. I felt terrible for him. That had to have happened a number of times to him already. I had only tried the charm once on Neville during our First Year - which had resulted in him falling straight to the ground and only forgetting a few minutes of his life. But the same thing had happened. I recognized the symptoms of one who had just had his memory modified.

"Oh, poor man. That'll suck," I muttered.

"A map of the campsite for you," Mr. Roberts said placidly to Mr. Weasley. "And your change."

"Thanks very much," Mr. Weasley said.

If only I could do a Memory Charm like that... It was one of the few lessons that I couldn't wait for. But I was reasonably confident that we wouldn't do that one until Seventh Year. For good reason, too. The wizard in plus fours accompanied us toward the gate to the campsite. He looked exhausted: His chin was blue with stubble and there were deep purple shadows under his eyes. Once out of earshot of Mr. Roberts, he leaned over and muttered to Mr. Weasley and Dad.

"Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy," the wizard told them. Hmm... maybe he had some wizarding blood in him. "And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security. Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur, Marcus."

The wizard Disapparated without another word. We all stopped and stared at each other. "I should probably take off and help with security. Almost everyone is showing up today," Dad said regretfully, looking off into the distance.

"I'll take care of the kids," Mr. Weasley promised.

"Thanks, Arthur," Dad said, shaking Mr. Weasley's hand. "Please keep an eye on Tara -"

"Stop!" I hissed.

It was bad enough that everyone had already heard how paranoid Dad was earlier. I didn't need him to keep it up. "I'll keep an eye out for Tara. Not to worry, Marcus," Mr. Weasley said, sensing the tense air.

"See you later, kid," Dad said.

"Bye," I said tonelessly.

There was no way that he was getting a nice goodbye after he had managed to embarrass me at least five times this morning. I crossed my arms over my chest as everyone else shifted around awkwardly. With Dad around, things were strange with me for everyone. They all knew how tense things still were with my father. Fred grabbed me around the waist and pulled me away from my father, into himself. Dad gave me a quick nod (a warning to behave) before Disapparating.

"Thank Merlin he's gone," I huffed.

"Tara," Fred called.

"What?" I asked.

"You really want to make things worse?" Fred asked.

Was he really not on my side? "He's being unreasonable!" I hissed.

If Mom had managed to get over it, Dad could too. "Yes, he is," Fred agreed. I smiled brightly. I knew that he would agree with me. He never agreed with parents. "And right now the best thing to do is to play nice with him. Let him think that you're okay with everything. The sooner you act like things are okay, the sooner he'll loosen the reigns."

For a moment, I merely stared at him. Then I said, "When did you get smart?"

Instead of looking offended, Fred merely laughed. "Always have been, love," he said, throwing his arm over my shoulders.

"I thought Mr. Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports. He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?" Ginny asked, looking surprised.

"He should, but Ludo's always been a bit… well…lax about security," Mr. Weasley said slowly, smiling, and leading us through the gates into the campsite. "You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic head of the sports department though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

"Which isn't really saying much," I mumbled under my breath.

That was enough to make everyone laugh. I didn't really mean to be rude, but I had never been much of a fan of the Wimbourne Wasps. Although they had won the League Cup at least eighteen times. Not that it was saying much. They had only been in the European Cup twice and had never advanced into the Quidditch World Cup. Not like the Stars had managed to do numerous times. Alright... maybe I was still a little biased. Fred and George threw their arms over my shoulders as we walked up towards the campsite.

We had only been walking for a few minutes when Mr. Weasley turned back to us. "Well kids, welcome to the Quidditch World Cup!" he cried happily.

While still fun, it definitely wasn't as spectacular as the World Cups that were held in the States. Together we trudged up the misty field between long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bell pulls, or weather vanes. I snorted in amusement. At least they were trying. And I supposed that most of them could have just said that they had more money than sense.

However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that I could hardly be surprised that Mr. Roberts was getting suspicious. Honestly, guys. This is why I call wizards morons... Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. A little farther on we passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent that had a front garden attached, complete with a birdbath, sundial, and a fountain.

"Always the same. We can't resist showing off when we get together," Mr. Weasley said, smiling. The rest of us all exchanged dumbfounded looks. "Ah, here we are, look, this is us."

The further that we walked into the grounds, the more that I realized that enchantments must have been placed this far out. Mr. Roberts and the rest of the Muggles around here couldn't be allowed out this far. Because this was where all of the real magic was happening. We forced our way through the large crowd, taking in the sights of the real World Cup. Cheerful music was playing and people flew about overhead on brooms. I laughed as a middle-aged man nearly took off Ron's head.

At least you could really feel the magic out here. Vendors were set up everywhere and kids ran about with either Ireland or Bulgaria merchandise. I saw a few couples arguing over the teams. Even more, people were holding up banners and flags, already cheering even hours before the match started. After a few minutes we had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and there was an empty space, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read WEEZLY.

"Couldn't have a better spot! The field is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be," Mr. Weasley said happily.

"Cool!" I chirped happily.

No walking meant a much better time for me. I was sick of having to trek through the woods and terrain of England anyway. It was much harder than the mostly flat surfaces in Florida. Mr. Weasley hoisted his backpack from his shoulders. The rest of us followed suit. I stared at the tent and glanced around. There were tents in each direction. I couldn't figure out which one was my parents' - the signs were too far away. I just needed to know which way to walk when I snuck out to meet Cedric tonight. If they weren't making me stay with them, at least.

"Where are my parents staying?" I asked Mr. Weasley nervously.

He motioned two tents down from us. "They're a few tents down. Not to fear, Tara. I'll talk to Marcus and remind him that you were supposed to originally stay with us. It's only fair, right?" Mr. Weasley offered.

My lips turned up in a smile. "Thanks, Mr. Weasley. Did he mention why he's upset with me?" I asked awkwardly.

Mr. Weasley grinned. My stomach churned in knots. That just made things ten times worse. I was sure that Dad made the entire thing sound like they had caught us in the middle of a seriously improper act. "He did. But not to fear. We've all done some improper things. That's what makes them fun," Mr. Weasley said, winking at me.

I laughed. "Thanks, Mr. Weasley."

"Right, no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we're out in these numbers on Muggle land," Mr. Weasley said excitedly. The rest of us laughed. No one ever listened to that rule. But we tried. "We'll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult… Muggles do it all the time… Here, Harry, Tara, where do you reckon we should start?"

"It's pretty easy. Come on," I said.

A few times, back in the States, I had gone on camping trips over the summers with my friends. Although Harry had never been camping in his life; the Dursley's had never taken him on any kind of holiday, preferring to leave him with Mrs. Figg, an old neighbor. However, with my assistance, he and Hermione worked out where most of the poles and pegs were supposed to go, and though Mr. Weasley was more of a hindrance than a help, because he got thoroughly overexcited when it came to using the mallet, we finally managed to erect a pair of shabby two-man tents.

There had to be some kind of charm placed on them. There was no way that we were all going to manage to fit in there. Since none of the Weasley's looked particularly concerned, I didn't bother saying anything. I assumed that it was for Muggles to mistake these as actual tents. Back in the States, we weren't concerned. We used fully magical tents. All of us stood back to admire our handiwork. Nobody looking at the tents would guess they belonged to wizards, but the trouble was that once Bill, Charlie, and Percy arrived, we would be a party of eleven.

That must have been what Harry was thinking. I could see it in his eyes. I grinned to myself. It would be rather amusing watching him enter the tent for the first time. Much like his reaction when he had first seen both Hogwarts and Diagon Alley. I then turned to Hermione to see if she was curious about the size of the tent too. She certainly looked it. Hermione had spotted the problem too; she gave Harry and me a quizzical look as Mr. Weasley dropped to his hands and knees and entered the first tent.

I walked up to Harry's side and patted him on the shoulder. "It's bigger on the inside," I told him with a wink.

"We'll be a bit cramped, but I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look," Mr. Weasley called back to us.

Harry stared at me for a moment. I grinned at him and walked forward. I bent down, ducked under the tent flap, and felt my jaw drop. I instantly began laughing. It was rather comically furnished. But the actual tent was a perfect size. Harry came in behind me. We had walked into what looked like an old-fashioned, four-room flat, complete with bathroom and kitchen. Oddly enough, it was furnished in exactly the same sort of style as Mrs. Figg's house: There were crocheted covers on the mismatched chairs and a strong smell of cats.

Everyone instantly went to rummaging around the tent. There was a living room that we were spat out into with a few very fluffy chairs. Directly behind that was a dining room and, off to the side, the kitchen. The bunks were on each side of the tent. One larger one for the boys and a much smaller one for the girls. Hermione and Ginny were shrieking with laughter as they entered the bedroom. Ron darted off to the kitchen. Mr. Weasley began to unpack as the twins headed up towards the dining room. Harry hesitated in the doorway.

"Girls. Choose a bunk and unpack. Ron, get out of the kitchen, we're all hungry," Mr. Weasley called.

"Yeah get out of the kitchen, Ron," the twins said, kicking their feet up onto the table.

"Feet off the table," Mr. Weasley ordered them.

"Feet off the table," the twins repeated in a sing-song voice.

Mr. Weasley had barely walked past when Fred and George put their feet right back on the table, leaning backward in their chairs. I rolled my eyes at them as I walked up toward the dining room. Hermione and Ginny were finding their own bunks. I tossed Hermione my things to place on the leftover bed. Ron appeared to be trying to sneak some kind of dessert from the kitchen. Mr. Weasley looked to be the only one actually getting their things put away. I walked up to the twins and rolled my eyes at them.

"Brats," I said.

They both looked up at me and grinned playfully. I laughed under my breath as I dropped down into the chair across the table from George and next to Fred. I instantly kicked my feet up onto the table and leaned back in my chair. I couldn't quite get enough room with the twins' long legs, so I reached over and kicked their legs off so that I had some room. They glared at me. I glanced back and saw that Harry was staring, wonderstruck, at the tent. As he walked forward, I reached back and grabbed his hands.

"I love magic," Harry breathed.

"Well, it's not for long," Mr. Weasley said, mopping his bald patch with a handkerchief and peering in at the four bunk beds that stood in the boys' bedroom. "I borrowed this from Perkins at the office. Doesn't camp much anymore, poor fellow, he's got lumbago." He picked up the dusty kettle and peered inside it. "We'll need water..."

"There's a tap marked on this map the Muggle gave us," Ron said. He had followed Harry inside the tent and seemed completely unimpressed by its extraordinary inner proportions. All he wanted was food, as always. "It's on the other side of the field."

"I'll go," I said quickly, hopping up from the chair.

"Obvious," the twins said through coughs.

"Shut up!" I barked, whacking them on the back of their heads.

"Wonderful! Well, why don't you, Ron, Harry, and Hermione go and get us some water then," Mr. Weasley handed over the kettle and a couple of saucepans, "and the rest of us will get some wood for a fire?"

"But we've got an oven," Ron said. "Why can't we just -"

"Ron, anti-Muggle security!" Mr. Weasley yelped quickly, his face shining with anticipation. "When real Muggles camp, they cook on fires outdoors. I've seen them at it!"

"Campfires are fun!" I butted in. "We can make s'mores!"

"What?" Ron asked blankly.

Harry, Hermione, and I stared at him. "You don't know what s'mores are?" we all asked together.

"No," the Weasley's all said together.

They had never had s'mores... I changed my mind. Wizards were completely useless. "That's a travesty. We'll have to have a conversation about that later," I told them.

After a quick tour of the girls' side of the tent, which was slightly smaller than the boys', though without the smell of cats, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I set off across the campsite with the kettle and saucepans. It was so much fun to see everyone interacting with each other. It was lovely. At least England did have some fun during the World Cup. It was pathetic before right now. Now, with the sun newly risen and the mist lifting, we could see the city of tents that stretched in every direction. It must have gone on for miles.

We made our way slowly through the rows, staring eagerly around. I was also looking to see if I could find Cedric wandering about. I figured that Mr. Diggory would have likely sent Cedric to get some water, just like we had been. As I glanced around, I smiled. There were definitely more people at the Quidditch World Cup in England then there were in the States. It was only just dawning on me how many witches and wizards there must have been in the world; I had never really thought much about those in other countries, save the States.

But I should have known just how many there were. There were people juggling as we walked and others who were selling all sorts of merchandise. People were strolling all about, laughing and chuckling with each other. It was too bad that the World Cup didn't come around every year. I would have loved to get to see this every summer. As I glanced about, I wondered if any of my friends from the States were here. I kept my eyes out to see if there were any people from Hogwarts here either. I knew a lot of people had wanted to come.

Our fellow campers were all starting to wake up by now. It wouldn't be long before everyone was up. The first to stir were families with small children. It had been a long time since I had seen witches and wizards that young. Not since the summer program at Ilvermorny and the occasional ones I'd seen in Diagon Alley. A tiny boy no older than two was crouched outside a large pyramid-shaped tent, holding a wand and poking happily at a slug in the grass, which was swelling slowly to the size of a salami. As we drew level with him, his mother came hurrying out of the tent.

"How many times, Kevin? You don't - touch Daddy's - wand - yecchh!"

Ron exchanged a grin with me. We were the two who remembered just how goofy being a young child in the Wizarding World was. It led to the moments when I had ended up in India through the Floo Network and how Ron had ended up with a spider as a teddy bear on behalf of Fred. They made for some funny stories. In the present day, the mother had ended up trampling over the giant slug, which burst under her foot. Her scolding carried after us on the still air, mingling with the little boy's yells.

"You bust slug! You bust slug!"

We all grinned at each other as we walked past. Hermione even looked the slightest bit amused. It was rather funny. She was usually the most straight-laced out of any of us. A short way farther on, we saw two little witches, barely older than Kevin, who were riding toy broomsticks that rose only high enough for the girls' toes to skim the dewy grass. I smiled at them. I used to have a little broomstick like that. They didn't soar that high into the air and they had auto-brakes. Most young witches and wizards had them at some point in their childhood.

A Ministry wizard had already spotted the two girls; as he hurried past Harry, Ron, Hermione, and me he muttered distractedly, "In broad daylight! Parents having a lie in, I suppose -"

It was more likely that the parents just didn't care. They likely just wanted to let their kids have fun. Back in the States, kids would fly around trying to mimic the professional players both before and after the game. Here and there adult wizards and witches who had arrived days ago were emerging from their tents and starting to cook breakfast. Some, with furtive looks around them, conjured fires with their wands; others were striking matches with dubious looks on their faces, as though sure that couldn't work.

Three African wizards sat in serious conversation, all of them wearing long white robes and roasting what looked like a rabbit on a bright purple fire, while a group of middle-aged American witches sat gossiping happily beneath a spangled banner stretched between their tents that read: THE SALEM WITCHES' INSTITUTE. I grinned. That was the school I might have gone to for continued education in the States. I caught snatches of conversation in strange languages from the inside of tents we passed, and though I couldn't understand a word, the tone of every single voice was excited.

Each person was laughing and shouting excitedly. The longer that we walked, the more that I noticed magic was being used. I supposed that once people were awake and careless, they wanted to start using magic. Not that I blamed them. It certainly made everything work a lot faster. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought that I might have spotted some of Cedric's friends from school. If there were around here, there was a good chance that Cedric wasn't too far off. We were getting close to the field where his tent was.

"Er - is it my eyes, or has everything gone green?" Ron asked suddenly.

"It's the Irish supporters," I answered.

It wasn't just Ron's eyes. We had gone into the Irish side of the campsite. We had walked into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks so that it looked as though small, oddly shaped hillocks had sprouted out of the earth. The leprechauns must have been hanging around here somewhere. They had been the Irish National Quidditch Team's mascot forever. Grinning faces could be seen under those that had their flaps open. Then, from behind us, we heard our names.

"Tara! Harry! Ron! Hermione!"

That voice was definitely familiar. It was Seamus Finnigan, our fellow Gryffindor Fourth Year. He was sitting in front of his own shamrock-covered tent, with a sandy-haired woman who had to be his mother, and his best friend, Dean Thomas, also of Gryffindor. I was definitely excited to see the two of them. I'd only seen them for a game of soccer in the middle of summer and once when we had run into each other in Diagon Alley. I darted up to them happily, the other three following closely.

"Seamus! Dean!" I chirped.

The three of us went spinning as I caught them in a tight hug. We all laughed as we stepped back and let the other three join us. "Like the decorations? The Ministry's not too happy," Seamus said, grinning happily.

"Love 'em," I said, grinning at the brilliant green decorations. "And damn the Ministry."

Seamus raised an eyebrow. "Don't your parents work for the Ministry?" he asked.

"Yep."

Seamus and Dean laughed. Even Ron cracked a smile. Hermione frowned disapprovingly. "Ah, why shouldn't we show our colors? You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents," Mrs. Finnegan said.

"They're big-headed," I answered.

"You'll be supporting Ireland, of course?" Mrs. Finnegan added, eyeing Harry, Ron, Hermione, and me wearily.

Everyone instantly stepped backward. Seamus looked a little bit embarrassed about his mother's words and our reactions. I understood. That was what parents were good for. Embarrassing their kids. It took us almost half an hour to convince her that we really were planning on supporting Ireland. She seemed to only really believe me since the States tended to be the friendliest with Ireland's team. When we had all managed to assure her that we were indeed supporting Ireland, we said goodbye to Seamus and Dean and set off again.

"Like we'd say anything else surrounded by that lot," Ron mumbled.

"I wonder what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents?" Hermione asked.

"Probably their flag, at least. They usually dangle that over everything," I answered her.

"Let's go and have a look," Harry said.

He was pointing to a large patch of tents upfield, where the Bulgarian flag - white, green, and red - was fluttering in the breeze. I smiled at the others, just like always, glad to be right. The tents on the Bulgarian side of the camp had not been bedecked with plant life, but each and every one of them had the same poster attached to it, a poster of a very surly face with heavy black eyebrows. The picture was, of course, moving, but all it did was blink and scowl. It was easily recognizable as Viktor Krum.

"Krum," Ron echoed my thoughts quietly.

"What?" Hermione asked.

If there was anyone who wouldn't know who Krum was, it was Hermione. She liked Quidditch but didn't keep up with it. "Krum! Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker!" Ron gasped, horrified that Hermione didn't know who he was.

"He looks really grumpy," Hermione said, looking around at the many Krum's blinking and scowling at us.

"He always looks like he has to go to the bathroom," I said.

"'Really grumpy?" Ron repeated.

"Quidditch players usually do, though," I pointed out.

"No, he doesn't!" Ron shouted at me, finally realizing what I had said. I grinned as he raised his eyes to the heavens. "Who cares what he looks like? He's unbelievable. He's really young too. Only just eighteen or something. He's a genius, you wait until tonight, you'll see."

"Is he even eighteen?" I asked Ron.

Ron scoffed. "Who cares? A lot of the professional Quidditch players are young," he said.

"That's true," I shrugged.

It took us another few minutes to get to the tap near the edge of the camp. There was already a small queue for the tap in the corner of the field - even this early in the morning. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I joined it, right behind a pair of men who were having a heated argument. One of them was a very old wizard who was wearing a long flowery nightgown. The other was clearly a Ministry wizard; he was holding out a pair of pinstriped trousers and almost crying with exasperation.

"Just put them on, Archie, there's a good chap. You can't walk around like that, the Muggle at the gate's already getting suspicious -"

"I bought this in a Muggle shop," the old wizard said stubbornly. "Muggles wear them."

"Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these," the Ministry wizard said, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers.

"I'm not putting them on," old Archie said in indignation. "I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates, thanks."

Instantly Hermione and I were overcome with such a strong fit of the giggles that we had to hide our faces in each other's shoulders. But that was only making things worse since I could hear her laughing too. At this point, we ended up having to duck out of the queue and only returned when Archie had collected his water and moved away. It took us a few minutes to fill everything up that we were planning on carrying back. At least, they would. I was still planning on handing them off my bucket once I found Cedric.

Once we had gathered all of the water, we turned away and headed off. Walking even more slowly now, because of the added weight of the water, we made our way back through the campsite. We had already been gone for at least an hour. We would have to be getting back soon enough so that we could put all of our things away, get a chance to buy ourselves some souvenirs, have lunch, and eventually head to the game. I couldn't wait, but it was still almost twelve hours before the game even started.

Here and there, we ended up seeing more familiar faces: other Hogwarts students with their families. Oliver Wood, the old Captain of Harry and my House Quidditch Team, who had just left Hogwarts, dragged Harry and me over to his parents' tent to introduce us. They were just as excited about Quidditch as Oliver was. He looked thrilled to be here. He told us excitedly that he had just been signed to the Puddlemere United Reserve Team. He had told me before he'd graduated Hogwarts a few months ago, but I had forgotten to pass along the message to Harry.

After that, we were hailed by Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff Fourth Year. We stopped and chatted with him for a little while. Unfortunately, a little farther on we saw Cho Chang, an unfortunately very pretty girl who played Seeker on the Ravenclaw Team. She waved and smiled at Harry, who slopped quite a lot of water down his front as he waved back. I laughed hysterically, which only caused her to glare at me. She had always hated me and likely always would. Mostly because I was dating Cedric, whom she'd had a crush on forever.

More to stop Ron from smirking and me from saying something about his obvious crush than anything else, Harry hurried along the path and motioned for us to follow him. I left, feeling Cho Chang burning holes in my back. I saw a few very obviously American witches and wizards, but no one that I knew. There were even a few Slytherin's scattered here and there. We all walked off before they could say anything rude to us. Eventually, Harry pointed out a large group of teenagers whom we had never seen before.

"Who d'you reckon they are? They don't go to Hogwarts, do they?" Harry asked.

"'Expect they go to some foreign school. I know there are others. Never met anyone who went to one, though," Ron said. I whipped to him in annoyance. Did they ever listen to me? "Bill had a pen-friend at a school in Brazil… this was years and years ago… and he wanted to go on an exchange trip but Mum and Dad couldn't afford it. His penfriend got all offended when he said he wasn't going and sent him a cursed hat. It made his ears shrivel up."

Harry laughed, as did I, but Hermione scowled disapprovingly. I could see in his eyes that he must have been amazed at the idea of hearing about the other wizarding schools. How they had all been so stupid to not realize that there were others - beyond Hogwarts and Ilvermorny (if they even remembered my old school) - was behind me. I glanced at Hermione, who looked utterly unsurprised by the information. No doubt she had run across the news about other wizarding schools in some book or other. She also likely remembered my stories.

"Hey, morons," I barked. The three of them looked at me in annoyance. "You know that I went to a foreign wizard school for a summer program when I was younger, right?"

"That's right! Livermerne or something like that?" Ron asked.

"Ilvermorny!" I shouted, annoyed with his butchering of my old school's name.

Ron paled. "Was it fun?" Hermione asked, trying to change the direction of the conversation.

"It was really cool. It was a castle, just like Hogwarts. I had a lot of friends there and I do miss them sometimes," I said honestly. Hermione frowned. I assumed that she also missed her friends from her old Muggle school sometimes. "But I'm really happy to be with you guys. Hopefully, you guys can see it one day. Ilvermorny's one of the less mysterious schools."

"Because American's love to show off," Ron huffed.

That was... moderately true. "Shut up," I snapped.

Everyone laughed, knowing that I had gotten caught there. I was the first one to admit that American's were somewhat of showoffs. I always had been, at least. Hence why I was on the Quidditch Team at Hogwarts. We all had to be somewhat of exhibitionists. I smiled at the others as we continued our trek back to the corner of the campsite. We were almost completely back through the Irish section of the camp when a hand laid itself on my shoulder. I almost dropped my bucket of water, they had scared me so badly.

"There you are," Cedric's voice called.

"Ah!" I chirped happily, grinning at him. "Been looking for you."

"Guess we'll wait for you," Harry muttered.

Both he and Ron looked annoyed. Hermione was smiling politely. Cedric grinned at the others as I handed off my bucket of water to Harry. "Please and thank you!" I called after them. They walked off to chat with Seamus and Dean again. I turned back to Cedric. "Glad you found me."

"Glad to see you. Can I borrow you for a moment?" Cedric asked, motioning me off.

"Suppose so," I said, what I hoped was careless.

"Suppose?" Cedric repeated, grinning.

"Suppose," I confirmed.

Cedric stared at me for a moment before laughing. It didn't take long for me to start laughing too. We both smiled as Cedric grabbed my hand and pulled me along with him. We wound in between the Irish supporters as I kept a careful eye out for Dad. I wasn't exactly sure where he was right now, but I didn't want to get caught all over again. I smiled at myself as we headed toward the woods and passed a few trees on the outer edge. We were the only people out here, considering everyone else was at the campsite.

In the back of my mind, I knew that we weren't supposed to be here. They had always said that no one was allowed out in the Muggle woods - with the exception of when the game started up and we were allowed out at the stadium. Besides, I had never really cared about the rules. Evidence by each terrible thing we had done at the end of every previous school year. Much to my surprise, Cedric eventually grabbed my waist and pushed me back against the tree. His lips instantly met mine.

Now I realized why we were out in the woods. There was no way that we could do this on the campsite. There was a good chance that Dad would end up right in the middle of the kiss. Or maybe someone else would see it and repeat it to him. Nope. Any time that we wanted to be together over the next few weeks, it was going to have to be in a moderately private area. We remained locked in this kiss for a long time. Harry, Ron, and Hermione would likely be sick of waiting for me, but I didn't care. They would just have to wait for a little while.

It was the first time that we had really gotten to be together since we had gotten caught out in Diagon Alley the other day. I was extremely grateful to finally be back around him. Even if it was just going to be for a few minutes. Partially because I knew that Cedric was friendly with Cho Chang and she had a pretty massive crush on him. Maybe I could be a little paranoid... I mostly just enjoyed being back with him. I would enjoy these few minutes that I got to be together with him with nothing interrupting us.

After a few minutes, I felt his hands wind around my back and underneath my clothes, just as they had that day in Diagon Alley. I laughed softly under my breath and bunched his own clothes up in my hands, doing the exact same thing to his clothes that he was doing to mine. It was definitely a heated kiss, more so than it usually was, but that was what made my heart flutter. I would have never dared do this before. And I liked that I was getting a little more daring in our private times together.

Eventually, we both had to pull away and breathe. I did so and smiled at Cedric, who grinned back at me. "That was quite the way to say hello," he teased breathlessly.

"Just wait til you see goodbye," I teased.

We both laughed as my face burned slightly. I probably shouldn't have said that... "How are things at home?" Cedric asked.

"Not good," I admitted.

"What's been going on?" Cedric asked, leaning up against the tree with me.

Letting out a soft breath, I began tugging on a thread at my sleeve. "Believe it or not, Mom has actually gotten over it," I said. Cedric arched a brow and smiled. "She says that she's going to try and talk to my father and get him to see that this really isn't that bad. But I don't know how that's going to work out. He seems furious. You saw him. He won't even let me look at you."

Cedric nodded thoughtfully. "Who can blame him? I am devilishly handsome. I could seduce you just like this," Cedric said teasingly.

He leaned back and struck an absolutely ridiculously seductive pose, his hip jutted out in one direction, one hand behind his head, with his chin, tilted upward. I started laughing hysterically. He knees were bent slightly as he bounced up and down. One thing that people would never know about Cedric was that he was actually very funny. Even more than the twins were sometimes. He just had a more demure sense of humor. I laughed and shoved into him, throwing him off balance, slightly embarrassed by his actions.

"Watch it, you're starting to sound like me," I teased.

"That's not a bad thing," Cedric said.

As he leaned down and pressed another soft kiss against my lips, I smiled up at him. "I can't wait to go back to Hogwarts," I whispered quietly.

"Me either," Cedric admitted. "Did you hear about what's going to come to Hogwarts this year?"

More on that mysterious thing that was going to interrupt our year. "Percy keeps trying to goad everyone into asking what it is. We don't want to give him the satisfaction. But Dad mentioned something about it. I'm not really sure what it is. I asked him if it had anything to do with Quidditch and he said no so I told him that I didn't care," I explained.

Cedric grinned deviously. "Oh, I think you might."

"Alright... so what is it?" I asked, mildly curious.

"I'm certainly not telling you. You'll have to wait and see," Cedric teased playfully.

"Cedric Diggory!" I gasped, affronted. "I'm your girlfriend!"

It was his job to tell me things that I wasn't supposed to know. "That's exactly why I'm not telling you," Cedric said.

"Come on!" I yelped. He merely grinned at me, arms folded over his chest. I huffed impatiently. "Oh, forget you. I'm not giving you the satisfaction of getting me upset. I don't care."

Cedric stared at me for a moment before saying, "You definitely care."

"Do not!" I barked, even though I did.

"Do too."

"Do not!"

"Do too."

He wasn't going to know that I cared that he wouldn't tell me. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. What I would do was attack him. I growled under my breath as I launched after Cedric, who had clearly been expecting it. I threw him forward and jumped up onto his back. He laughed and wrapped an arm around my thigh, pulling me off of himself and attempting to throw me to the grass. I leaned up and kissed him instead, hoping that I might be able to distract him. We both began laughing again, trying to unentangle ourselves.

Just as I was about to kiss him again, there was a shout that cut through the air. "Tara! Tara Nox!" a female's voice ran out.

It wasn't Mom's voice, but they were definitely an American. "I think someone's calling you," Cedric said.

"What would have given you that idea?" I asked flatly. Cedric grinned at me. I turned back in time to see two people I hadn't seen in far too long rushing toward me. "Ellie! Morena!"

"Tara!" Ellie chirped.

Cedric stepped back, obviously getting the sense that this was a somewhat private moment. He merely watched us with a grin as the two girls came darting up to me. I met them halfway, slamming into them in a hug at full speed. Both looked the same as they had the last time that I'd seen them a few months ago during a trip to the States. Ellie was still tall and her dark brown hair still hung around her waist. Morena was still thin as could be with blazing red hair. The girls were clearly looking me over just the way I was doing to them.

"Oh, we've missed you!" Morena chirped, pulling out of the hug first.

"Oh, I've missed you guys, too!" I said happily. But I was surprised to see them. The girls had never really been that fond of Quidditch. "I can't believe you're both here!"

"We both came with our families. Everyone's here!" Ellie said. I couldn't wait to see their families. I'd always loved their parents and siblings. "Michael, David, and Justin are hanging around somewhere."

Even after all of these years, the five of them were still as close as ever. I was surprised but pleased to hear that. "You're all still best friends?" I asked curiously.

"Of course. We just miss you," Morena said.

"I miss you guys too," I said honestly.

There were days that I really did miss the five of them. Ellie seemed to finally notice Cedric standing in the background. She eyed him up and down, making me grin. Cedric noticed too but chose not to comment on it. He merely smiled at me. He strode forward, throwing an arm over my shoulder. Ellie instantly backed off. Not that I cared. She didn't know about the two of us. I'd never told them. Morena looked at him too. She even looked slightly interested and normally Ellie was the boy-crazy one.

"And who's this?" Ellie asked sweetly, eyeing the two of us curiously.

"Right. Cedric, these are my best friends from Ilvermorny, Ellie and Morena," I introduced them. They both waved. "And the boys!"

My three male best friends from childhood walked forward. For a moment they looked shocked to see me. It seemed that they got over it rather quickly. I ran and hugged all three of them. They had all gotten taller since I'd last seen them. Michael now towered over everyone else. David had much longer hair than when I had last seen him and seemed to be gaining muscle mass from playing as a Beater on the Thunderbird House Team - as he'd told me in his last letter. Justin could have easily passed for seventeen by now. As I backed away from them, I turned back to Cedric.

"This is Michael, David, and Justin," I introduced Cedric. He waved at them as I turned again. "Everyone, this is Cedric Diggory. My - uh - my boyfriend."

My face was burning brilliantly. I never had actually enjoyed calling Cedric my boyfriend. I just liked the idea. "Boyfriend, eh?" Ellie asked curiously.

Cedric laughed. "Nice to meet you all," he said.

"When did the two of you start going out?" David asked curiously.

Hopefully, they weren't about to give him the fourth degree. "Oh, it was early last year," Cedric said, sensing my hesitance to speak. "She just couldn't leave me alone."

Somewhat true... "Funny," I snapped as the others laughed.

"Tell us everything!" Ellie chirped.

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, Cedric tapped his wristwatch. He was right. We had been too long. "I don't really think there's time," I told them regretfully. They frowned. "I have to be getting back to my friends and parents soon and I'd assume that Cedric does too. But I'll write you guys! I've missed seeing you all."

"Us too, Tara. Write to us," Morena said.

I nodded my consent. "And let us know if you're ever back in the States," Justin added.

"Definitely," I said. We all began making our way back to camp when I remembered something. "Hey! Who are you all rooting for?"

"Ireland," they all replied.

Everyone grinned. "Okay. We can all still be friends," I teased.

There was no way that I was going to tolerate any of my friends rooting for Bulgaria. If there was a chance that Ron was going to support Bulgaria because of Krum, I'd beat it out of him. Everyone laughed at me as I moved forward and gave them all departing hugs. Ellie and Morena latched on a little longer than the boys did. I had a feeling that it might have been because of Cedric. I had noticed them all giving each other once over's. Justin, David, and Michael had always been very much like my big brothers.

There had never been anything even moderately romantic between any of us. I knew that Ellie had a crush on some guy back in Ilvermorny and Morena hadn't yet had her first crush. Justin was dating some girl from Iowa that they went to Ilvermorny with, David was trying to talk to a girl from Texas, and Michael was still enjoying getting to play the field. It always made me laugh. It was very much like Michael. He and Ellie were always the most flirtatious of us. I was hoping that one day the two of them would end up together.

Perhaps I would have to push Morena, David, and Justin to get the two of them together. I was very pleased when Cedric came forward and shook their hands as a departing gesture. I gave them another hug as we all headed off back toward the campsite. I smiled gratefully at Cedric, glad that he was letting them take up some of the time that we were supposed to be having together. As we crossed back over into the campsite, I asked Cedric to wait a few moments for me to say goodbye to my friends. He nodded and walked off.

"Where's Harry Potter?" Justin asked curiously.

They had met only once before, the summer before last. "He's off with my two other friends - Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger - waiting for the two of us," I explained. They nodded. "Giving us some... time."

My voice tapered off awkwardly. The boys scowled as Ellie and Morena grinned deviously. "Seriously?" David snapped.

"Get it, Tara!" Ellie chirped.

"It was just a few minutes to talk!" I snapped.

They all laughed as my face began burning. Why did it seem like every conversation about Cedric and I's relationship seemed to eventually turn to that? I was sick of having to awkwardly explain that the two of us weren't to that point yet. There was a brief moment of everyone snapping at each other. Ellie and Morena were both laughing and cheering me on. David and Justin were snapping at them to stop cheering me on. Michael was lecturing me on the simple fact that I was too young for anything like that. It took me almost five minutes to get them to stop.

"Would you look at that?" Michael said teasingly. I arched a brow, wondering what he was talking about. "Miss Tara Nox is best friends with the savior of the Wizarding World, Harry Potter, and she's clearly dating one of the most attractive guys in Hogwarts." The girls hooted playfully. "Not to mention that he's older than you."

"Oh, stop it," I groaned, embarrassed.

"We always knew that you would be the first one to get some hot boyfriend!" Ellie said.

In all honesty, I thought it would be her. "Thanks, guys," I mumbled.

"And he really is cute," Morena said, shooting an innocent look at Cedric from over her shoulder.

"Oh, come on, he's not that cute," Michael huffed.

"Yes, he is!" Ellie countered. "Tell us about him."

It was always awful, having to explain Cedric to other people. It made me feel so awkward. "As I said, his name is Cedric Diggory. He's going into his Sixth Year at Hogwarts this year. He's a Prefect and in Hufflepuff House. He plays as the Seeker on their Quidditch team and he's also the Captain," I explained briefly.

They were quiet for a few moments before Morena said, "So, he's pretty much perfect?"

"Pretty much!" I chirped.

When it came down to it, Cedric really was the perfect kind of boyfriend. He had wonderful grades, he was going to have no problem getting a job after Hogwarts graduation, and he was absolutely beautiful to look at. He was older than me - a bonus in itself - a wonderful Quidditch player, and he didn't mind bending the rules from time to time. Ellie and Morena laughed as the boys rolled their eyes. I doubted that they liked being upstaged by a guy that they'd met just a few minutes ago.

"Lucky you," Ellie teased.

"He's not that great," Justin huffed.

"You don't even know him!" I said, shoving him. "Two of my friends call him Pretty-Boy Diggory. Unfortunately, that name has caught on and now pretty much everyone I know calls him that."

"Next time you're in the States, you're going to have to tell us all about what happened," Morena said.

"Deal."

"We'll see you soon, then?" David asked.

"Probably next summer. But I'll write," I said happily.

"We'll hold you up on that," Michael said, nudging my shoulder.

"Bye, guys. It was really good to see you all!" I chirped happily.

"You too!" they all called back.

"You damn well better write," Ellie warned.

"Absolutely!" I said.

"And tell us everything that's happening between you and Cedric Diggory!" Morena called after me.

"Not everything!" Justin added.

I laughed. "Get out of here!"

They really were terrible. We weren't getting to that point yet. Perhaps in a few years - if we were still together - but definitely not yet. With final hugs exchanged between us all, my old friends walked off and I smiled. It really had been good to see them again. I did miss them. I turned back and walked over to where Cedric had been waiting for me. He was smiling at me, clearly by the way my friends had spoken to me. I rolled my eyes. But I was quickly mortified when I realized that he might have heard everything that they had said.

"Your friends seem nice," Cedric said.

As I fell into step with him, he wrapped an arm up around my shoulder. "They're just looking for reasons to try and embarrass me. Using you is one of the best reasons," I explained.

He looked at me teasingly. "I try and embarrass you," he pointed out.

"You succeed," I said. "Actually, my father succeeds more than anyone else does."

"You know that he loves you," Cedric said. I grumbled my consent to him. He was right, but I didn't want to admit it. "Neither one of us might enjoy what he's been doing, but he does care for your best interest. He likely just remembers what boys were like during his own time at Hogwarts and he fears that happening to his own daughter."

For a long time, I merely stared at him. Cedric didn't even crack a smile, letting me know that he was being completely serious. He really was quite intelligent. He always knew what to say. Whether or not it was the thing that I wanted to hear. I didn't really want to hear the truth, but I knew that it was something I needed to hear. Dad did love me and he wanted to try and protect me from a potential heartbreak. I knew that... I did... I knew that his protection of me was exactly what most fathers did. But I wasn't going to let Cedric know that.

So I settled on saying, "You sound like a grandmother."

Cedric laughed and punched me on the arm. "I'm trying to help you!" he chuckled.

"I know, I know. It's all fair. I just wish that I didn't have to sacrifice any of my time with you," I mumbled sadly.

"Two weeks and we're back at Hogwarts," Cedric pointed out.

"That's true. I can't wait," I said excitedly.

"Surprisingly, me either. It should be a good year," he said.

"Definitely!" I chirped.

Getting away from Mom and Dad and getting an easy opportunity for some alone time with Cedric was worth all of the work at Hogwarts. "Are you going to come and meet me out here at midnight?" Cedric asked.

"I'll have to think about that..." I said teasingly.

Cedric grinned. "How about I help out that thought process?"

He was more than welcome to help out my thought process. It was moments like these that I understood why people thought that we had done more than we had. Cedric walked toward me, wrapped an arm around my lower back, and pulled me into him. He pressed his lips against mine as one of his hands went up to my hair. I laughed softly, placing my hands in his back pockets - just the way that we had been when we had gotten caught in Diagon Alley. That was enough to make me break the kiss. Dad was still wandering around here somewhere.

"Alright, that convinced me," I said.

Cedric laughed. "Good. In the meantime, you should probably be heading back," Cedric suggested. I groaned. We had barely had any time together. "No use getting in even more trouble than you were in before."

He was right about that. Plus, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were still waiting for me to return so we could all head back. "You're right about that. Dad's not over with the Weasley's right now though. He's helping set up the last few things for the World Cup. But, with my luck, I'll end up walking right into him with you. So... midnight it is," I said.

"See you then," Cedric promised.

That was all if the game was over by midnight. It would start at eight o'clock. Sometimes it went on for days. Sometimes it only went on for a few hours. With Krum in the mix, I assumed that it would end rather quickly. Cedric moved forward and pressed a final kiss against my mouth one last time as I waved goodbye, turning and walking back to where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were waiting for me. Harry and Ron glared at me. Hermione was still looking around. As Cedric walked off in the other direction, I smiled after him.

Harry instantly thrust the bucket of water back in my chest. I grunted as I caught it. "Where were you?" Harry asked.

"Knock it off," Hermione and I said together.

We both laughed as Harry and Ron glared at me all over again. I noticed them sending Cedric a nasty look as he walked off back to his tent. I whacked them over the back of the head as we walked back through the tents. Everyone was clearly wide awake by now. The music was blaring through the campsite and I smiled as the guests soared overhead on their brooms. This was exactly why Mr. Roberts had already been Obliviated a number of times. It took almost ten minutes to get all the way back to the Weasley's tent.

"You've been ages," George said when we finally reentered the Weasley's tent.

"Met a few people," Ron said, setting the water down.

He took my pale as I walked back over to where the twins were still seated over at the table. I stared at the two of them. Had they really been sitting there the entire time? Why couldn't they have gotten up and done something else? Collecting firewood only took a few minutes. I kicked Fred's feet out of my way as I took a seat in the chair next to him. He instantly threw his legs up over my own. I scowled at him and decided to accept it. He likely knew where I had gotten off to and he could easily hold it over my head.

"What was it that you told me? I was oddly popular?" I asked the twins.

"Popular with everyone, or popular with a certain Hufflepuff?" Fred asked softly.

"Shut up!" I gasped, whipping my head around the tent. "Is my dad here?"

Fred shook his head. "Nah, he's off handling some last-minute details. Came back for a little while to tell everyone that he'd meet us up in the box with your mother before the game."

"Thank Merlin," I gasped.

"Glad they're gone?" Fred asked.

"Duh," I said.

"Where's Diggory?" Fred asked.

Of course, he had known where I had headed off to. He was one of the people who knew me best. "Back with his father," I said. Fred merely stared at me with a knowing look. "We - We just happened to run into each other!"

"And meet mouth-to-mouth?" Fred teased.

My face dropped into a scowl. "Just you wait until you get yourself your first girlfriend, Fred Weasley. I'm going to make your life miserable," I hissed.

"Who's to say I haven't already had one?" Fred asked.

There was a slight grin on his face. Something was very teasing behind it. Much to my surprise, something about that statement bothered me. I wasn't sure what it was. Perhaps it was just the fact that Fred - like always - was being an asshole. But I knew that it wasn't the truth. I had a feeling that it might have been because the idea of Fred being with someone else was weird. I wasn't really sure why. But there was a definite spike of aggravation in my chest at the thought. I opened my mouth to snap back at Fred when Ron spoke over me.

"You've not got that fire started yet?" Ron asked.

"Dad's having fun with the matches," Fred answered.

Was it really a good idea to have Mr. Weasley playing with matches? I looked at Fred and George in concern, but they merely stared back at me blankly. They weren't concerned about their father. I turned back to see what was happening with the campfire. Mr. Weasley was having no success at all in lighting the fire, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Splintered matches littered the ground around him, but he looked as though he was having the time of his life. Harry, Hermione, and I grinned at each other. It was like watching a little kid.

"Oops!" Mr. Weasley gasped as he managed to light a match and promptly drop it in surprise.

"Come here, Mr. Weasley," Hermione kindly, taking the box from him, and showing him how to do it properly.

"Come on, fires are easy. Muggles start them all the time," I added.

Hermione knew how to light the match, but I knew that I could get a fire going faster. I was the one who always did the campfires whenever I went camping with the Granger's. It took almost twenty minutes to get the fire lit, mostly because Mr. Weasley wanted to help, though it was at least another hour before it was hot enough to cook anything. By the time we were finally able to cook something, I was starving, having mostly missed breakfast. At least there was plenty to watch while we waited.

Much to my pleasure, our tent seemed to be pitched right alongside a kind of thoroughfare to the field, and Ministry members kept hurrying up and down it, greeting Mr. Weasley cordially as they passed. Twice over the hour, Dad passed by, giving me a quick hello. He looked quite tired and ready for this to be over. I didn't care. The more tired he was the less I ran the risk of running into Dad when I snuck out at midnight. Mr. Weasley kept up a running commentary, mainly for Harry's and Hermione's benefit; I and his own children knew too much about the Ministry to be greatly interested.

"That was Cuthbert Mockridge, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office... Here comes Gilbert Wimple; he's with the Committee on Experimental Charms; he's had those horns for a while now… Hello, Arnie… Arnold Peasegood, he's an Obliviator - member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, you know and that's Bode and Croaker… they're Unspeakables..."

"They're what?" Harry asked.

"From the Department of Mysteries, top secret, no idea what they get up to..." Mr. Weasley explained.

Was there really a Department of Mysteries? That was the one thing that I would have always liked to see. I had asked both of my parents about it a few times before, but they always told me that they didn't even know what happened in there. At last, the fire was ready, and we had just started cooking eggs and sausages when Bill, Charlie, and Percy came strolling out of the woods toward them. I was heating up a cup of coffee that I had smuggled from an elderly American witches' tent nearby. Hermione scolded me but I ignored her.

"Just Apparated, Dad," Percy said loudly.

"No shit," I mumbled.

It wasn't quite enough. "Language," Mr. Weasley warned, although his lips were tilted upward slightly.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"Ah, excellent, lunch!" Percy said.

Fred and George looked like they were having an almost impossible time not making some rude comment to Percy. It was almost funny watching the two of them start to turn purple in the face from biting back their comment. We all sat down around the campfire outside and began eating. I spent most of the breakfast chatting with Hermione about just how incredible the World Cup was sure to be. We were halfway through our plates of eggs and sausages when Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding toward us.

"Aha! The man of the moment! Ludo!" Mr. Weasley said happily.

Was Ludo Bagman really here? He had always driven me out of my mind. I liked him well enough, but there was always something kind of strange about him. I wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was the fact that he seemed rather dishonest, and that was something that I hated. Ludo Bagman was easily the most noticeable person I had seen at the campsite so far, even including old Archie in his flowered nightdress. Harry, Hermione, and I stared at him, bewildered. He should have known better! He was wearing long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal stripes of bright yellow and black.

It was the Wimbourne Wasps uniform. An enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest. He had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed; the robes were stretched tightly across a large belly he surely had not had in the days when he had played Quidditch for England. His nose was squashed (probably broken by a stray Bludger), but his round blue eyes, short blond hair, and rosy complexion made him look like a very overgrown schoolboy. He looked more excited than I had ever seen him before.

"Ahoy there!" Bagman called happily.

Yes, it was definitely the happiest I had seen him. The last time that I had really gotten a chance to speak to him had been at the last Quidditch World Cup I'd been to in the States. He hadn't participated in the arrangement of that one, but he had been up in the Top Box and had been just as excited. It was even better now that he had gotten the chance to plan it. Or worse, according to Dad. Ludo Bagman was walking as though he had springs attached to the balls of his feet and was plainly in a state of wild excitement.

"Arthur, old man, what a day, eh?" Ludo puffed as he reached the campfire. "What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming… and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements... Not much for me to do!"

He could have gotten the others to stop flying and acting so loudly so that it was causing the Roberts' to consistently remember everything that kept happening before they were Obliviated. Behind Ludo Bagman, a group of haggard-looking Ministry wizards rushed past, pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of a magical fire that was sending violet sparks twenty feet into the air. I arched a brow. What the hell was going on over there? Something that Dad would have to deal with, I was sure.

Percy hurried forward with his hand outstretched. I rolled my eyes and made the motion to trip him with my ankle. Fred and George laughed heartily, looking like they were planning on following through with my actions. I wished that they would. I would have liked to see Percy fall into the scrambled eggs. As far as I could see, it seemed that apparently, Percy's disapproval of the way Ludo Bagman ran his department did not prevent him from wanting to make a good impression.

"Ah - yes, this is my son Percy. He's just started at the Ministry - and this is Fred - no, George, sorry - that's Fred - Bill, Charlie, Ron - my daughter, Ginny and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger, Tara Nox, and Harry Potter," Mr. Weasley said, introducing us all.

Ludo Bagman grinned at me and stepped past Percy. I grinned up at him. A good personality got you just as far in life. "Actually, I've been acquainted with Tara for a number of years. Played against her father a number of times over the years, I did," Ludo said proudly.

During exhibition matches... "Hi, Mr. Bagman," I said, giving him a quick handshake.

"Still playing Quidditch, are you, Tara?" Bagman asked.

"Yeah!" I said happily. Quidditch was the only type of conversation that I liked to have with Ludo Bagman. "Finally going to be a regular Chaser on the Gryffindor House Team this year."

Bagman smiled knowingly. "Well, we'll see about that."

"What?" I asked, confused.

Bagman waved me off. "Not a thing, dear," he said. Was that supposed to have something to do with whatever Dad, Percy, and Cedric had been talking about? "Congratulations on being on the House Team."

"Thank you, Mr. Bagman," I said politely.

Once he walked off, I noticed that he didn't exactly look away. Bagman did the smallest of double takes when he followed the line of kids. He must have realized which one of them was Harry. I watched as his eyes performed the familiar flick upward to the scar on Harry's forehead. I felt bad for Harry. He had always looked so awkward whenever people stared at his scar. I was pretty sure that I was the only person who had never stared at it, mostly because he had never really fascinated me that much.

"Everyone," Mr. Weasley continued, "this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him and Marcus we've got such good tickets -"

Was it really Bagman that had gotten Mr. Weasley tickets in the Top Box? I had to assume that it must have been true. Dad must have ordered him to give the Weasley's the tickets, knowing that Mr. Weasley would have never accepted them from Dad. He was too proud to get them from a friend. But getting them from a coworker was something different. It was kind of sad. At least we would all be together. Bagman beamed at our group and waved his hand as if to say it had been nothing.

"Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?" Bagman offered eagerly, jingling what seemed to be a large amount of gold in the pockets of his yellow-and-black robes.

"He bets?" I whispered to Fred and George.

They said nothing back. They appeared to have gotten quite fascinated by the conversation. "I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first - I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years - and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a week-long match," Bagman continued.

"Oh… go on then. Let's see… a Galleon on Ireland to win?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"A Galleon?" Ludo Bagman looked slightly disappointed but recovered himself. "Very well, very well… any other takers?"

"They're a bit young to be gambling," Mr. Weasley said. I shook my head anyway. I had never been very good with luck. "Molly wouldn't like -"

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," Fred said as he and George quickly pooled all their money, "that Ireland wins but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh, and we'll throw in a fake wand."

The entire table went dead silent. No one had been expecting that. For a moment, I was stunned that the twins even had thirty-seven Galleons to begin with. That was when I realized that it wasn't all of the money that they had brought to the Quidditch World Cup. That was literally all of the money they had in their savings. My jaw dropped. If they lost this bet they would lose everything that they had to start the joke shop. I couldn't pay for the entire thing myself! The store, the merchandise, and all of the advertising costs. They barely had enough to manage it right now.

"Freddie! Georgie!" I hissed at them.

Fred turned and wrapped an arm over my shoulder. "Don't worry, love."

"We know what we're doing," George added, leaning over.

"Boys, honestly," I said worriedly.

"You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that," Percy hissed.

Was no one else concerned that the twins were putting in all of the money in their savings in a bet with Bagman? They were all concerned about the damn joke wands! I tried to speak to the twins about my concerns of the bet, but they were preoccupied with Bagman. Contrary to Percy's belief, Bagman didn't seem to think the wand was rubbish at all; on the contrary, his boyish face shone with excitement as he took it from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman roared with laughter.

"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!" Bagman laughed.

Something lit up in the twins' eyes. I knew what they were thinking. If Bagman would pay five Galleons for something as silly as a joke wand, what else would people pay for? The joke shop was a good idea but they needed to start it at Hogwarts to gather some money to actually build the joke shop once they were out of school. How were they going to buy supplies if they lost all of their money in the damn bet? I was worried, but it was rather comical to watch Percy freeze in an attitude of stunned disapproval.

"Boys, I don't want you betting... That's all your savings..." Mr. Weasley muttered under his breath, voicing my thoughts. "Your mother -"

"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!" Ludo Bagman boomed jovially, rattling his pockets excitedly. "They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum will get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance... I'll give you excellent odds on that one... We'll add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we..."

Ron looked stunned that the twins were actually doing this. Hermione and Ginny looked about as worried as I felt. Harry was merely staring at them blankly. I couldn't believe that they had really done it. My stomach was churning with anticipation as I wondered if I could possibly refund their money if they ended up losing the bet. But that was a lot... Mr. Weasley looked on helplessly as Ludo Bagman whipped out a notebook and quill and began jotting down the twins' names. I shook my head at their forwardness.

"Cheers," George said.

No... This was not a good idea. There was no way that this was a good idea. This was just about one of the worst ideas that they had ever had. They had made such an odd bet too. Ireland would win but Krum would catch the Snitch. That was way too specific of a bet. George took the slip of parchment Bagman handed him with the information on the bet and tucked it away into the front of his robes. Bagman turned most cheerfully back to Mr. Weasley. I turned to the twins with a stern face.

"Are you two sure about that?" I asked worriedly.

"It'll work, Tara," George said.

"We promise," Fred added.

How could they have done this? They were smart! This was so stupid. "Please be careful. That's all of the money that you have in your savings. I can only help so much... this is my parents' money," I said quietly.

"We're not going to lose it," Fred said.

"We'll be making double," George added confidently.

In the meantime, Ludo Bagman was still speaking to Mr. Weasley. "Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty will be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages," Bagman said.

"Mr. Crouch?" Percy asked, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement. "He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll..."

"Anyone can speak Troll," Fred said dismissively. "All you have to do is point and grunt."

"He's got a point, you know," I said.

That was likely the reason that Professor Quirrell had once been able to control trolls - they were quite easy to handle. I smiled at the twins, still watching nervously as Bagman began jingling their coins around in his money purse. The twins didn't look the slightest bit bothered. Percy threw Fred an extremely nasty look and stoked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to the boil. Why had Mr. Weasley let the twins bet all of their money? I grabbed onto Fred's hand, who looked rather surprised to see my actions.

"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr. Weasley asked as Bagman settled himself down on the grass beside us all.

"Not a dicky bird," Bagman said comfortably. "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha... memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July."

"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr. Weasley suggested tentatively as Percy handed Bagman his tea.

"Barty Crouch keeps saying that, but we really can't spare anyone at the moment," Bagman said, his round eyes widening innocently. "Oh - talk of the devil! Barty!"

Barty Crouch got along and worked with Ludo Bagman? That was rather surprising. He never seemed to like Ludo. Mostly because the two of them were very different people. Bagman was goofy while Crouch was uptight. Much to my surprise, a wizard had just Apparated at our fireside, and he could not have made more of a contrast with Ludo Bagman, sprawled on the grass in his old Wasp robes. Barty Crouch was a stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie. He looked as tense as ever. Maybe even a little sick.

The parting in his short gray hair was almost unnaturally straight, and his narrow toothbrush mustache looked as though he trimmed it using a slide rule. His shoes were very highly polished. Despite having met Mr. Crouch before, I could see at once why Percy idolized him. Percy was a great believer in rigidly following rules, and Mr. Crouch had complied with the rule about Muggle dressing so thoroughly that he could have passed for a bank manager; I doubted even Vermin would have spotted him for what he really was.

"Pull up a bit of grass, Barry," Ludo said brightly, patting the ground beside him.

"No thank you, Ludo," Crouch said, and there was a bit of impatience in his voice. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"Oh is that what they're after? I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent," Bagman said.

"Mr. Crouch!" Percy said breathlessly, sunk into a kind of half bow that made him look like a hunchback. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh," Mr. Crouch said, looking over at Percy in mild surprise. "Yes - thank you, Weatherby."

Fred and George choked into their own cups. I released Fred's hand to hide my face in his shoulder. Almost instantly I raised my coffee cup to my face to keep myself from laughing even louder than I was. It was hysterical. I loved seeing Percy get knocked down a few pegs. He was always far too big-headed for my liking anyway. Percy, very pink around the ears, busied himself with the kettle. Fred and George looked like they were fighting tooth and nail to keep themselves from launching into a teasing fit with their older brother.

"Is he serious?" I asked the twins once I'd calmed down.

"Hope so," they both said.

"Oh and I've been wanting a word with you too, Arthur," Mr. Crouch said, his sharp eyes falling upon Mr. Weasley. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets."

Mr. Weasley heaved a deep sigh. "I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"

"I doubt it," Mr. Crouch said, accepting a cup from Percy. "He's desperate to export here."

"Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" Bagman asked.

"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle. I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve - but that was before carpets were banned, of course," Mr. Crouch said.

Mr. Crouch spoke as though he wanted to leave nobody in any doubt that all his ancestors had abided strictly by the law. The conversation had already turned quite boring for me. I began snoring playfully at the table. Percy shot me a nasty scowl. Fred and George began laughing. As the adults continued speaking, I began showing Fred and George how to play rock-paper-scissors. It turned out that George was quite good at it. He beat Fred and me in almost every round that we played.

"So, been keeping busy, Barty?" Bagman asked breezily.

"Fairly. Organizing Portkey's across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo," Mr. Crouch said drearily.

"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?" Mr. Weasley asked.

Ludo Bagman looked shocked. "Glad! Don't know when I've had more fun. Still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?"

Mr. Crouch raised his eyebrows at Bagman. "We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details -"

"Oh, details!" Bagman said loudly, waving the word away like a cloud of midges. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids will know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts -"

"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," Mr. Crouch said sharply, cutting Bagman's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

It was slightly disappointing. By now I genuinely was curious to know what was going to be happening at Hogwarts this year. Especially if it meant that I couldn't play Quidditch this year. That would be disappointing. That was one of my favorite parts of the year. Mr. Crouch pushed his untouched tea back at Percy and waited for Ludo to rise; Bagman struggled to his feet, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets chinking merrily. I swallowed a lump in my throat. There go the twins' savings...

"Know what that's about?" George asked me.

"Both Dad and Cedric mentioned something about it but they won't tell me. Whatever, apparently it's got nothing to do with Quidditch, so I don't really care," I said, trying to sound as careless as possible.

"Diggory knows?" Fred asked huffily.

"His dad works for the Ministry. Probably not top-secret over there," I said. The twins were glaring at me. "Oh, knock it off!"

"See you all later! You'll be up in the Top Box with me - I'm commentating!" Bagman cheered.

We were really going to have to sit up in the Top Box with him for hours on end? Potentially a few days, if the match went on that long... It was going to be a long Quidditch World Cup. I assumed that Dad was going to lose his mind having to be up there with Bagman. He had never liked him very much. Bagman smiled and waved, Barty Crouch nodded curtly, and both of them Disapparated. Everyone else at the table began glancing around at each other. I downed all of the coffee I had been drinking.

"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad? What were they talking about?" Fred asked at once.

"You'll find out soon enough," Mr. Weasley said, smiling.

"It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it. Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it," Percy said stiffly.

"Oh shut up, Weatherby," Fred said.

George, Ron, and I snorted into our drinks. A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on. We spent most of our time playing Exploding Snap and talking about Quidditch. On a walk of our campsite, I found a pamphlet of the old games both Ireland and Bulgaria had won before the World Cup. We all spent a few hours watching them. We played Exploding Snap a number of times, lapped each other on races around the campsite, and used some of the brooms that our neighboring tents let us borrow to practice our own Quidditch.

By dusk, the excitement finally building to the brim, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretense disappeared: the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now breaking out everywhere. It was kind of cute. We all knew that they would eventually just give up on it. There were too many people who were far too excited for the World Cup.

Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes - green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria which were squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries that played their national anthems as they were waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew, and collectible figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves.

"Been saving my pocket money all summer for this," Ron told Harry and me as the three of us and Hermione strolled through the salesmen, buying souvenirs.

There were a ton of things I wanted to buy sitting around here. But I only had so much money to spend and I couldn't buy everything. All I knew was that I wanted to buy something that told everyone that I was blatantly supporting the Irish. Or maybe something that read 'Krum sucks' just so that I could throw it in Ron's face. But I wanted something with the Irish spirit behind it. Something that was both funny and adorable. There were a lot of things that were cool but nothing stood out to me so far.

Perhaps something that I could wear... I hadn't bought clothes in a long time. I wandered through the racks, leaving Hermione behind me. Ron and Harry looked like they had gotten caught up in some trading cards that were a blatant ripoff of the trading cards that came with Chocolate Frogs. About ten minutes after we had started wandering through the merchants, Mom and Dad found me. I gave Mom a hug and Dad a smile as I went back to the booth of t-shirts. Mom was hanging over my shoulder.

"Find anything cute?" she asked.

"Looking around. Haven't gotten anything yet," I said.

"Sure there's going to be something," Dad said hopefully.

There had to be something. It was just a question on which one I wanted. I wandered back and forth for a little while longer with Mom directly behind me, complaining about how Dad would likely be in a much better mood once the World Cup was over. That was what I was hoping for. I finally managed to find a t-shirt in the back of the stands that read 'Kiss Me, I'm Irish' with a flying Irish Chaser beneath it. I laughed softly. That was the shirt that I wanted. I picked it up to buy it.

"That's actually rather funny," Mom said, grinning down at it.

"I thought so too," I said happily.

"Really?" Dad huffed, walking up behind me.

"You don't like it?" I asked curiously.

"Not particularly, Tara. No, I honestly don't really like it," Dad said.

I turned to the merchant. "How much?" I asked.

"Two sickles," he responded.

"I'll take it," I said, passing over two sickles.

Dad scowled as Mom laughed, covering it up as a cough and strolling away. "Really?" Dad asked.

"My money, right?" I asked. Dad merely stared at me. "I can do with it as I please. And I think that this is cute."

It was an added bonus that it made him mad. "You only bought that because you thought that it would make me mad," Dad said. I shook my head. "It's fine. Like you said, your money. I don't care what you waste it on."

"Alright. You won't mind if I go get changed into this and wear it to the match, then, will you?" I asked sweetly.

"Of course not," Dad said through clenched teeth.

Mom walked back up to us and grinned. "What am I ever going to do with the two of you?"

"Drive yourself insane," I answered.

"Very likely," she said.

We all laughed as I walked off. Dad would get over the shirt and I would enjoy it while I had it. I walked back over to Harry, Ron, and Hermione and slipped the t-shirt over my head and over my tank top as I walked. I was hoping to run into Cedric on the way to the Cup. I had a feeling he would get a good laugh out of it. When I caught up with the others, Hermione laughed at the shirt. As I had figured, Ron and Harry didn't like it in the slightest. I rolled my eyes and ignored them.

Though Ron purchased a dancing shamrock hat and a large green rosette, he also bought a small figure of Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker. I had always thought that the figurines of the players were a little creepy. But he had a crush on Krum so I figured that I would leave it alone for now. The miniature Krum walked backward and forward over Ron's hand, scowling up at the green rosette above him. I half-hoped that the figurine Krum might try and attack Ron for supporting Ireland.

"Wow, look at these!" Harry gasped, hurrying over to a cart piled high with what looked like brass binoculars, except that they were covered with all sorts of weird knobs and dials.

"Omnioculars," the sales wizard said eagerly. I perked up. I'd always wanted a pair. "You can replay action… slow everything down… and they flash up a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. Bargain - ten Galleons each."

"Wish I hadn't bought this now," Ron said glumly. gesturing at his dancing shamrock hat and gazing longingly at the Omnioculars.

"Four pairs," Harry said firmly to the wizard.

"No - don't bother," Ron said, going red.

Was he really planning on buying four pairs of Omnioculars? They were incredibly expensive. Just one pair was a lot of money. That was the main reason that Mom and Dad hadn't bought me them when I was a kid. Plus they had thought that there was a chance I would break them, which was a good point. As for Ron, he was always touchy about the fact that Harry, who had inherited a small fortune from his parents, had much more money than he did. It was even worse with my own family, considering that we were an incredibly wealthy family.

"I think not. I've got my own," I said, placing one of Harry's pairs back on the table.

"Want to split Hermione's?" Harry offered.

I shook my head again. "Oi! You two!" I called to the twins. They both turned back to me. "Buying anything?"

"We spent all of our money in the bet," Fred said sadly.

"Can't afford anything more," George mumbled.

"You get Ron and Hermione. I've got those two," I told Harry.

"That's sweet, Tara," Harry said.

"I'd feel bad if they walked away with nothing," I explained.

Just because they wanted to open their joke shop and take risks shouldn't mean that they couldn't have some fun too. "You won't be getting anything for Christmas," Harry told Ron, thrusting Omnioculars into his and Hermione's hands. I paid for my three. "For about ten years, mind."

"Fair enough," Ron said, grinning.

"Oh, thanks, Harry," Hermione said. "And I'll get us some programs, look -"

All of our money bags considerably lighter, we went back to the tents. In a matter of minutes, we would be on our way to the World Cup. By now I was jumping around with excitement. I couldn't wait to see it. Not to mention I wanted to ensure Fred and George won their money back. Bill, Charlie, and Ginny were all sporting green rosettes too, and Mr. Weasley was carrying an Irish flag. I grinned. All Irish supporters. Fred and George, as they had said, had no souvenirs as they had given Bagman all their gold.

Darting up to them, I fell into step with Fred. His eyes dropped to my shirt. "Ah," he said, grinning. "Can I take you up on that?"

"Shut up," I snapped, shoving into him. "Here. Take them."

I handed both Fred and George the Omnioculars. The twins both stared at me blankly for a moment. "Tara -" Fred started.

"You shouldn't have," George finished, looking embarrassed.

"It's fine. I don't mind. You two just looked so pathetic walking back here without anything," I said, waving them off.

"We'll pay you back," Fred promised.

"Don't worry about it," I said honestly. "But don't you dare keep losing money in bets."

"We're winning this one," George said hopefully.

"First thing we'll do it pay you back," Fred said.

"Just let me have whatever I want from the joke shop," I said.

They looked at each other before saying, "Deal."

If I wanted money, all I had to do was ask Mom or Dad. That was the easy part. What I really wanted was to get some of the jokes that Fred and George were going to sell at their joke shop. I had a feeling that they wouldn't charge me for whatever I wanted anyway since I had put in most of the money for the trial period. I would just have to slip some money into the register from time to time. Fred and George grinned at each other before launching onto me in a tackle hug, knocking all three of us to the ground.

"Get off of me!" I shouted at them.

"We love you, Tara!" they called together.

The two of them spent a long time ruffling my hair and sitting on top of me. It took Mr. Weasley yelling at them to leave me alone and help me back to my feet. The twins gave me loving hugs before walking me back toward the tents. We were almost all the way back when there was a deep, booming gong that had sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field. I exchanged an excited look with Harry.

"It's time!" Mr. said Weasley, looking as excited as any of us. "Come on, let's go!"


	8. The Quidditch World Cup

Clutching our purchases, Mr. Weasley in the lead, we all hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. The twins were on my heels, still muttering their stupid thanks for the Omnioculars. I had to threaten them at least three times that I would cut out their tongues if they didn't stop thanking me. It was driving me nuts. It really wasn't that big of a deal, despite what they thought. Much to my excitement, I could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around us, shouts and laughter, along with snatches of singing.

The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious; I couldn't stop grinning. It had definitely been far too long since I had been to a Quidditch World Cup. We walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, harassing Ron about his crush on Krum, until at last we emerged on the other side and found ourselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Though I could see only a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the field, I could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it.

My grin only widened. As we walked toward the entrance I managed to run into my friends from the States again - they had mid-level tickets. I waved them over, happy to see them again, and spent a bit of the walk introducing them to Ron and Hermione. They had already met Harry a few times. I had to shush them all to keep from asking where Cedric was. They looked rather confused about the entire thing but I had promised them that I would tell them what had happened in a letter. Otherwise, Ron and Hermione both seemed happy to meet my old friends.

Hermione had spent far too long asking them about the States and Ilvermorny. Ron had been far more interested to know if they had the same candy. I'd rolled my eyes at both of them. Once they had returned to me, I had been forced to explain my shirt all over again. As with Harry and Ron, the boys weren't happy to see it. I had ignored them. The girls had laughed about it, telling me to show it off to Cedric. I laughed and gave them all final hugs as we neared the entrance of the stadium. They were taking a different staircase.

Everyone was thrilled with being here. I liked seeing what an English Quidditch World Cup was like. While they had some similarities, they were vastly different. The American Quidditch World Cups were louder and larger. They usually had a lot more merchandise stands and tended to start during the day. Not to mention that they utilized a lot of Muggle technology in theirs. The Europeans tended to steer clear of Muggle technology. It was a different style than I was used to, but I enjoyed it all the same.

As we stomped up the stairs toward the Top Box - which was sure to take forever to actually get to - Mr. Weasley fell back into step with me. He quickly informed me that Mom and Dad were already at their seats in the Top Box, which I was immensely grateful for. I knew that they would be in a better mood once the game started and Dad was finally done with his stressful workload. Plus there was the fact that Cedric wasn't going to be around, which always seemed to make things a little bit better.

"Seats a hundred thousand," Mr. Weasley said, spotting the awestruck look on Harry's face. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Tara's father was one of the main workers."

"Organized most of the World Cup this year. Saw to the ones back in the States, too," I explained.

"Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again… bless them," Mr. Weasley added fondly, leading the way toward the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

"Prime seats!" the Ministry witch said at the entrance when she checked our tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go."

My gaze shot up to the top of the stadium. "That's going to be a long trip," I groaned.

"Are those the best seats?" Hermione asked.

The one good thing about Quidditch World Cup seats was that they were all expensive, but they were all good. "All of the seats are good since the players will be both up and down throughout the game. They don't even have seats until the tenth level. But it's the best to be up top. That's where the boards are that'll show the instant replays," I explained to her.

"They have those?" Harry asked curiously, obviously having overheard our conversation.

It was the one time I had seen wizards in Europe use even moderately non-magical inventions. "Wizards aren't completely inept when it comes to non-magical things. They just think that they're more clever about it. The boards are just enchanted rather than letting them run on electricity," I said.

The entire thing was fascinating. It had been so long since I had been to a Quidditch World Cup - far too long, as a matter of fact. Our small party chatted away excitedly as we entered the stadium. The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. The stadium in the States had bright marble floors. We clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through a door into the stands to our left and right. My breaths were coming in short pants as we climbed up and up. I had never been a fan of stairs.

As we walked, I noticed just how many people were lingering around in the hour or so that remained until the game began. Even in the stands, people were moving back and forth to talk to everyone surrounding them. Dean and Seamus were heading for some mid-level seats a few floors above us. In fact, I recognized a lot of the people on the way up. The people all around us slowly began dissipating as we ascended the staircase. I slowly fell behind everyone else to take a longer look around, already well aware of where the Top Box would be.

A shadow fell behind me and I went to move to the side when they spoke. "That shirt an advertisement? If so, can I take you up on it?" a man with an Irish accent asked.

My gaze shot up. I could see Harry, Hermione, and all of the Weasley's ahead of me. Save Fred. I couldn't see him next to George. I scowled at his stupid trick. "Freddie," I snapped, "if you think a stupid fake Irish accent is going to trick me into saying yes -"

Whipping around to try and throw Fred down the stairs, I stopped dead in my tracks. It wasn't Fred who was speaking to me at all. Instead, Fred had actually gotten almost a full level ahead of us. The person who had been speaking to me was a young man, maybe a few years older than me. I stared at him in wonder for a moment. I'd really made an ass out of myself right now... The man standing in front of me was noticeably good-looking. He had short cropped blonde hair and brilliant green eyes. He was smiling at me. I swallowed a lump in my throat.

"You are not my friend," I said dumbly.

The man grinned again. "Perhaps we could change that."

"No - No. I'm sorry," I stuttered dumbly, shifting off to the side of the platform. I was vaguely aware that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had stopped walking to watch us. "It's just that my friend made a comment kind of like that earlier."

"Understandable," the man said.

"I'm Tara," I said, giving him my hand.

"Phil Troy," he greeted, shaking it.

A bright smile crossed my mouth. I knew exactly who he was. "Oh, you're on the Irish Quidditch Team!" I chirped excitedly. He nodded at me with a slight smile. My gaze turned down to his Quidditch robes, which I realized he was wearing... Quite the idiot I was being today... "Which I should have known, considering you're wearing their robes."

Why was I so awkward right now? Get over it, Tara! "And I see you're supporting us?" Phil asked, his eyes dropping to my shirt.

"Well, to tell the truth, I'd much rather be supporting the United States Stars," I said quietly.

Phil's eyebrow raised. "That so?"

"My dad would have a conniption if I didn't. I'm Tara Nox," I explained.

Phil's face brightened. "Marcus is your father."

"Yeah. Do you know him?"

Usually, when I said my surname, everyone automatically knew who I was. "Met him when he came back to the States for a practice a few years ago. I was still on the Reserve Team. I'd just finished homeschooling," Phil explained.

How old was he? He didn't look that much older than Cedric or the twins. I had a feeling that he was likely one of the youngest players in the league. Perhaps he was the same age as Krum. But that wasn't what struck me as odd. He had mentioned that he had been homeschooled. I hadn't seen someone having been homeschooled since before I had been enrolled at Hogwarts. He was Irish, so it meant that he would have gone to Hogwarts. Perhaps he would have even been there when I was in my First or Second Year.

"You never went to Hogwarts?" I asked curiously.

Phil shook his head. "No. I was always determined to get to be a professional Quidditch player one day. My parents told me that they would homeschool me to give me a chance to get to play," he explained.

"Looks like you got your wish," I said, looking around us.

"That I did. Get to meet some interesting people," Phil said, his eyes twinkling as he looked at me.

My face began burning. As I opened my mouth to try and say something witty (or just not completely moronic), Harry's voice cut through the air. "Tara! Come on! We're moving on!"

Nodding at them, I turned back to Phil. "Oh, I should get going," I said, motioning back to my friends. Phil nodded. "Don't want to get lost. Even though the Top Box should be sort of self-explanatory." As I continued stammering like a complete moron, Phil smiled at me. "I guess I'll uh -"

"I'll see you around," Phil put in.

"I'll be rooting for you." Phil chuckled under his breath. "Your team!" I gasped, remembering myself.

Phil laughed again. "Thank you. Perhaps I'll stop by after the game," Phil offered. I merely stared at him, wondering what I was supposed to say. "I'd like to see your father again."

"I'm sure he'd like that too," I said.

"You'll be there?" Phil asked.

"Yeah. We're staying at least the night so we'll be around. I'm sure we won't be that hard to find," I said.

"I'll keep an eye out then," Phil said.

"Good luck," I told him, walking back toward the stairs.

"Thank you, Tara. See you around," Phil said, his eyes twinkling.

My heart was beating much faster than I was comfortable with. As Phil Troy walked off, heading back toward what I assumed were the locker rooms for the Irish Team, I felt my face burning. Was I going insane or was there a chance that Phil Troy was flirting with me? I had never been that good at picking out when someone was flirting with me, so I was definitely confused. But I was pretty sure that he was. Even though Cedric definitely had my attention and affections, it was nice to have a few other people looking at me like that.

After we'd headed up another flight of stairs, Hermione fell into step with me. She grabbed my arm and pulled me into her. "What was that?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

Shrugging my shoulders, I tried to pull out of her grip. "Honestly, Mione, I don't know. His name is Phil Troy. He's one of the Chasers for the Irish National Quidditch Team. He made a joke about my shirt and then the two of us got to chatting," I said as simply as possible.

"He was flirting with you!" Hermione yelled.

"Don't be stupid," I snapped, blushing madly. "No, he wasn't."

"He was!" Hermione said loudly, giggling madly. I continued blushing. "He doesn't look that old."

"Said he'd just finished homeschooling. He's probably only eighteen or so. A lot of Quidditch players are young," I mumbled.

"He was kind of cute," Hermione mumbled.

Why was this the one time she wanted to have girl talk? I wanted to talk about Cedric, not Phil Troy. "Stop it!" I shouted, whacking her over the shoulder. "I have a boyfriend, thank you very much."

Hermione made something that sounded a little bit like a scoff. I headed past her. I wasn't sure what had just happened with Phil Troy. I had a good feeling that he was just curious to talk to me because of who Dad was. That was the only thing that made sense. Why else would he want to talk to me? Ginny started giggling as we walked, trying to convince me that Phil had thought that I was cute and was flirting with me. I merely grabbed her face and shoved her back toward her father. It only made her laugh even harder.

"Who was that?" Harry asked curiously.

"His name is Phil Troy. He's one of the Chasers for Ireland," I explained.

"What's he doing talking to you?" Ron asked bluntly.

As the twins laughed, I scowled. "Thanks, Ron," I snapped. He gave me a slightly guilty smile. "I don't know. He saw my shirt and commented on it. We got to chatting."

"First Diggory, now a professional Quidditch player?" Harry asked huffily.

My face began burning a brilliant red. "Would you stop?" I snapped at the three of them. Hermione giggled as Harry and Ron rolled their eyes. "He happens to know my father. The two of them met while he was still a reserve player and Dad was coming back to visit the Stars."

"Better not let Diggory see him," Ron said.

"We were just talking!" I barked.

Fred walked over to my side and threw an arm over my shoulder. "Since you're too daft to see it -"

"Thanks," I interrupted.

"- let me help you out. You're pretty, Tara," Fred said bluntly. I couldn't help it. My cheeks warmed at his statement. I was surprised at his honesty. "A lot of people see it. You just don't notice it."

Was I really that pretty? I had never really thought about it. I knew that I was dating Cedric but that hadn't really ever occurred to me. I had always just thought that I was funny and we had a lot in common. But that was stupid. Didn't I think that he was attractive? Of course. Those feelings had to have been reciprocated at some point. My blonde hair was nice, I supposed. I had pretty eyes. My skin was clear because of the potion I used. I was tanned from Quidditch practice. My body was strong from constantly training but I did have Mom's curves.

Maybe I was halfway decent looking. Or maybe I wasn't giving myself enough credit. Besides that, who else had noticed? "I'm not that pretty," I mumbled awkwardly, embarrassed with myself.

"Don't sell yourself short," Fred said.

There had to be a hidden joke in there at my expense. I narrowed my eyes. "You're just telling me that because you want me to buy you something else from the merchants," I snapped.

Fred's eyes darkened. "You don't believe that I could give you an honest compliment?"

"Well -"

"Just say thank you," he interrupted.

Maybe I had judged him too fast... "Thanks for calling me pretty," I muttered.

"You're welcome," Fred said tensely.

Judging by the look on his face, I had definitely called him out too quickly. He was trying to be nice to me and I was being an insecure ass. "While we're at it, you're rather handsome," I teased, grabbing his cheek.

"Duh," Fred scoffed.

"Prat," I snapped.

Fred merely grinned at me as we continued walking upstairs. He was such a pain. But I had meant what I'd said. Fred was a reasonably attractive guy. I had never been one for redheads, but it looked good on him... On the twins... I cleared my throat (and my mind) as we continued up and up. I huffed under my breath. I should have just brought the Firebolt and flown up to the top of the stadium... I loved heights, but I wished that we had elevators to get to the top. The game would already be underway by the time we got to our seats.

"Wizards really need to get behind the whole elevator thing," I groaned.

"Agreed," Harry and Hermione puffed.

"A what?" Ron asked.

"Honestly, sign up for Muggle Studies!" I barked at him.

Hermione let out a barking laugh that Ron glared at her for. He fell back beside me long enough to give me a rough shove into the bars. I laughed softly as we continued on. Glancing upwards, I saw that we were getting close to the top of the stadium. At least we were almost there... More and more people peeled off into the stands as we headed near the Top Box. I knew that only about twenty or so people were allowed in the Top Box at the match. It usually took a personal invitation from someone important - which we all had.

"Blimey Dad, how far up are we?" Ron asked Mr. Weasley.

"What part of Top Box is not self-explanatory to you?" I shot back.

Ron scowled at me again as I laughed. It wasn't my fault that he was so easy to get riled up. Fred and George whacked their brother over the head as they passed us again. As I glanced back down at the stairs, I realized that two of my least favorite people on the planet were about a level underneath us. Lucius Malfoy and his son, Draco, were staring up at us with displeased looks. Just behind them was Draco's mother, Narcissa Malfoy, who appeared to be desperately trying to ignore the entire thing.

"Well put it this way, if it rains... you'll be the first to know," Lucius Malfoy called up.

The Weasley's, Harry, Hermione, and I all stopped in our tracks. "Joy," I muttered, looking down at them.

"Father and I are in the minister's box, by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself," Draco said gloatingly.

"So are -"

I jammed my elbow into Ron's chest to get him to stop talking. Ron grunted and took a step back. "Don't. Let it be a surprise," I said quietly.

As we all continued walking, the Malfoy's alongside us on the level below, Lucius jammed the butt of his cane into Draco's stomach. "Don't boast Draco. There's no need with these people." We all scowled at him as Harry wrapped an arm around Hermione and my shoulders, trying to push us away. Lucius Malfoy reached up and slammed the top of his cane over Harry's hand, holding him in place. "Do enjoy yourself, won't you? While you can."

"Creepy bastard," I hissed.

Lucius gave an eerie smile before releasing Harry's hand. He nodded for Draco and Narcissa to follow him as they walked off. I wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulder and pulled him off. There was definitely something bad there but I didn't know for the life of me what it meant. Maybe it was just him being an asshole. Everyone nodded their agreement at my earlier statement as we continued walking. I fell back toward the twins, watching where the Malfoy's were still walking, heading up toward the level we were about to depart.

"How much trouble do you think I'd get in if I spat on him?" I whispered to the twins.

"Do it together and make a run for it?" Fred offered.

"Just punch him again. You've always been good at that," George suggested.

"I'll pay you thirty-seven Galleons to hit him again," Harry said.

"I'd do it for free," I responded.

We all grinned at each other. Mr. Weasley kept our party climbing, and at last, nearly thirty minutes after reaching the stadium, we reached the top of the staircase and found ourselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goal posts. It was the perfect seat. A wicked smile took its spot o my face. About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows, and I filed into the front seats with the Weasley's, Harry, and Hermione, looking down upon a scene the likes of which I could never have imagined.

It was definitely different from the American Quidditch World Cup. "Come on up, take your seats. I told you these seats would be worth waiting for," Mr. Weasley called loudly to us.

We all moved into our seats. Fred and George hung at the bars, looking down over the field. "Come on!" George cheered loudly.

"Nice view," I chirped happily.

A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats, which rose in levels around the long oval field. Balloons of green, white, black, and maroon were floating up in droves around us. Spotlights were shining all over the stadium and up into the stands. Everyone was laughing and cheering already, even over a half an hour before the game started. We were some of the only people who had actual chairs. Every other box was standing room only. I tried to look for Cedric, but it was far too hard to make anyone out.

All I could see was the clear separation from the white and green supporters of Ireland to the black and maroon supporters of Bulgaria. Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light, which seemed to come from the stadium itself. The spotlights were only lighting the field even more, making it seem like it was daytime rather than nighttime. The field looked smooth as velvet from our lofty position. I let out a deep breath, wishing that the Quidditch Pitch at Hogwarts looked even a fraction like the one here.

At either end of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite us, almost at my eye level, was a gigantic blackboard. Just like the one back in the States. This one was enchanted, rather than using electricity. Gold writing kept dashing across it as though an invisible giant's hand were scrawling upon the blackboard and then wiping it off again. It was rather fascinating. I noticed that most of the people on our side of the stadium were entranced with it. Watching it closely, I saw that it was flashing advertisements across the field.

The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family safe, reliable, and with Built-in Anti-Burglar Buzzer… Mrs. Shower's All Purpose Magical Mess Remover: No Pain, No Stain!… Gladrags Wizardwear - London, Paris, Hogsmeade…

The last one was one of the stores that I had been dragged into by Mom during my first trip to Diagon Alley. That was one of the last times I had ever been in there. She had to physically drag me back into the place where I had met Draco Malfoy. I turned to the side and noticed that there were two seats left open for Mom and Dad. Their things were already there but they were nowhere to be found. I assumed that they must have run into someone that they wanted to speak to. Harry, who was on my other side, nudged me to get my attention.

"Is it like the American Quidditch World Cup?" Harry asked.

"A little more old-fashioned. American wizards kind of try to keep with the Muggle times. Even Purebloods know about Muggle devices. We love them. We usually just put a little magical spin on them," I explained.

"American wizarding sounds fascinating," Hermione said from a few seats down.

"It is," I told her.

"I'd love to see it one day," she said.

"Come with us next summer," I offered.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Really?"

It wasn't really up to me to invite her, but I had a feeling that my parents wouldn't mind. They loved her. They thought that she was a great influence. And they'd never had a problem with Harry coming, so I was sure that Hermione wouldn't be an issue. At that moment, I glanced up and saw that Mom and Dad were coming back to their seats. I smiled and walked over to them, giving them each hugs. Dad looked as excited as I had ever seen him. I listened to him talk about Bulgaria and Ireland's teams for a moment before speaking over him.

"Can Hermione come to the States with us next summer?" I asked.

Dad's voice dropped off as he exchanged a look with Mom. The two of them shrugged. "Sure," Mom said carelessly.

Hermione gasped. "Thank you!"

"You'll love it, Hermione," Mom said, getting up and walking over to chat with Hermione. "The Magical Congress..."

Their voices trailed off as I looked around. The last thing that I wanted was to listen to them chattering away about the magical world in the States. It was kind of interesting, but I knew all of those stories. I didn't care about them anymore. But I knew that they would fascinate Hermione. I turned back to the stadium and scanned the audience. There seemed to be just a slightly larger amount of Irish supporters than there were Bulgarian. I grinned. The Irish had always had a lot more supporters because of their personalities.

"Tara," Harry muttered, pinching my arm.

"Ow!" I gasped, covering my arm. I whipped back to Harry, annoyed. "What?"

"Look over there," he said.

What was so fascinating that he had to physically injure me? Still aggravated with him, I tore my eyes away from the sign and looked over my shoulder to see who else was sharing the box with us. So far it was empty, except for a tiny creature sitting in the second from last seat at the end of the row behind them. The creature, whose legs were so short they stuck out in front of it on the chair, was wearing a tea towel draped like a toga, and it had its face hidden in its hands. Yet those long, bat-like ears were oddly familiar... Now I understood what Harry wanted to talk to me about.

"Is that -?"

"Dobby?" Harry interrupted me incredulously.

No way. If it was Dobby, he would have already looked at us and he would have been talking a mile a minute. The tiny creature looked up and stretched its fingers, revealing enormous brown eyes and a nose the exact size and shape of a large tomato. It wasn't Dobby - it was, however, unmistakably a house-elf, as Harry's and my friend Dobby had been. But Dobby had bright green eyes. This was simply another one. Still enslaved, it seemed, considering the pillowcase it was wearing. Harry had set Dobby free from his old owners, the Malfoy family in our Second Year.

"Did sir just call me Dobby?" the elf squeaked curiously from between its fingers.

"They all look kind of similar..." I muttered to Harry.

Usually, the eye color and ear size was the only thing that could distinguish the elves from each other. This one's voice was higher even than Dobby's had been, a teeny, quivering squeak of a voice, and I suspected - though it was very hard to tell with a house-elf - that this one might just be female. Ron and Hermione spun around in their seats to look. Though they had heard a lot about Dobby from Harry and me, they had never actually met him. Even Mr. Weasley looked around in interest. I assumed that none of them had ever met a house-elf.

"We're sorry. Mistaken identity," I told the elf as politely as possible.

"Sorry. We just thought you were someone we knew," Harry added.

"But I knows Dobby too, sir, miss!" the elf squeaked.

"Do you?" I asked curiously.

Every now and again I did wonder what had happened to Dobby. The female house-elf was shielding her face, as though blinded by the light, though the Top Box was not brightly lit. "My name is Winky, sir, miss - and you, sir -" Her dark brown eyes widened to the size of side plates as they rested upon Harry's scar. "You is surely Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, I am," Harry said.

Winky turned her big brown eyes onto me. I gave her a slight smile. "Which means you, miss, must be Tara Nox!" Winky said happily.

"That's me," I said.

How did people always know who I was? I supposed that it didn't matter. "But Dobby talks of you two all the time, sir, miss!" Winky said, lowering her hands very slightly and looking awestruck.

"Oh, that's sweet of him," I said happily.

"How is he? How's freedom suiting him?" Harry asked.

"Ah, sir, ah sir, meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favor, sir, when you is setting him free," Winky said, shaking her head.

Harry stared at me. I shrugged my shoulders. "Why? What's wrong with him?" Harry asked, taken aback.

"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir. Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir," Winky said sadly.

"Why not?" Harry asked.

For a moment I felt like a complete fool. We had freed Dobby without thinking about where he could go next... Winky lowered her voice by a half-octave and whispered, "He is wanting paying for his work, sir."

"Paying? Well - why shouldn't he be paid?" Harry asked blankly.

Placing my hand on Harry's arm, I pulled him over to me and away from Winky. "Harry, remember, house-elves are slaves. They don't get paid for their work. Usually living in their master's homes and getting free food is their payment," I explained quietly.

"What?" Harry asked me stupidly.

As I let him work out what was going on, I turned back to Winky. "But it's good that Dobby's trying to break barriers!" I told her happily.

Winky looked quite horrified at the idea and closed her fingers slightly so that her face was half-hidden again. "House-elves is not paid, sir!" Winky said in a muffled squeak. "Not those barriers, miss!"

"You never know what can happen unless you try," I said quietly.

"No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of hijinks, sir, miss, what is unbecoming to a house-elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin," Winky told us.

"Doubt they'll have that much concern over him. He's a newly-freed house-elf," I mumbled.

"Well, it's about time he had a bit of fun," Harry said.

"House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter. House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter," Winky said firmly, from behind her hands. She must have really hated it all the way up here, then. She glanced toward the edge of the box and gulped, "But my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir."

"Why's he sent you up here, if he knows you don't like heights?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Master - master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter. He is very busy," Winky said, tilting her head toward the empty space beside her.

"That seems kind of lousy to do to someone," I put in.

"Oh, no, Tara Nox. Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told. Winky is a good house-elf," Winky explained.

If it were up to me, I would free all of the house-elves. Maybe not necessarily free them. But at least make sure that they were paid and given fair treatment. It was things like this that weren't fair. Winky should have been allowed to stay in her master's tent seeing as she was afraid of heights. I thought about saying something else to her, but she didn't seem willing to talk to us anymore. Winky gave the edge of the box another frightened look and hid her eyes completely again. Harry and I turned back to the others.

"So that's a house-elf? Weird things, aren't they?" Ron muttered.

"Dobby was weirder," Harry said fervently.

"It's true. She just seems a little antsy," I said.

"She's scared of heights," Harry explained.

Staring back at Winky, I couldn't help but hope that her owner would come here. I wanted to know who was cruel enough to bring her all the way up here. "Wonder who her owner is?" I asked quietly.

"Don't know," Harry said.

It would have been curious to know who her owner was. Hopefully, he or she would be back here soon enough. I looked at Mom and Dad to ask them who her owner was, but neither one of them were paying attention. Mom was still chatting with Hermione about the Magical Congress while Dad was talking to Fred and George about his time on the Stars. Ron pulled out his Omnioculars and started testing them, staring down into the crowd on the other side of the stadium. I moved the dial on my own paid to half speed.

"Wild!" Ron gasped, twiddling the replay knob on the side. "I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again… and again… and again…"

"You're disgusting, Ron," I snapped. I stared down at the field for a few minutes before glancing up at Dad. He was chatting away with an Irish man about the game. "Hey, Dad, do you know Phil Troy?"

He glanced over and thought for a moment. "Phil... yeah, I met him a few years ago. Good young kid. Good player. I hear he's on the team this year. I'll have to go and say hello," Dad said thoughtfully. "Why?"

"Ran into him on the stairs. I guess their locker rooms are nearby," I said.

"How's he doing?" Dad asked.

"Seems good. Ready for the game," I said.

Dad stared at me for a moment before asking, "How'd he know who you were?"

"I don't think he did. He just started talking to me," I explained.

He definitely wasn't going to know the real reason I'd drawn his attention. Much to my irritation, Fred and George began laughing. Dad shot me a sharp glare, realizing why they were laughing. "I hate that damn shirt," he growled.

"It's just a joke," I mumbled, sending Fred and George a sharp glare.

"I'll take Troy over Diggory," Dad huffed.

"Why's that?" I asked curiously.

"He's a legal adult. I can kill him and not get in trouble for it."

Much to my surprise, I started laughing. Even Dad cracked somewhat of a grin. Mom glanced over, smiled at us for a brief moment, and then rolled her eyes. We had always driven her insane. But I was in a surprisingly good mood, even around my parents. Maybe there was a chance that this whole thing was turning into more of a joke than anything else. That was what I was hoping for. This was something that we could look back on and laugh at. As I gave Dad a small smile, I glanced around and settled back in my chair.

We were just over half an hour out from the commencement of the game and I couldn't wait. Everyone seemed to be shifting around in their seats excitedly. Both sides of the stadium were cheering for both Ireland and Bulgaria, even long before the players made their way out to the field. Fred and George were chatting about the game with Ginny. Harry and Ron were looking through their Omnioculars curiously. Hermione, meanwhile, was skimming eagerly through her velvet-covered, tasseled program.

"'A display from the team mascots will precede the match,'" she read aloud.

"Oh, that's always worth watching. National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show," Mr. Weasley explained.

"Ireland is going to have leprechauns. They always do," I told the others.

"Bad sports. Fun to watch," Dad put in.

The Irish weren't good when they lost. But they were fun to watch when they won. "What are Bulgaria's?" I asked curiously.

Dad thought about it for a moment before saying, "Not quite sure."

A bunch of grouchy old men? I snorted at the thought, grateful that no one was watching me. The box filled gradually around us over the next half hour. Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards. Percy jumped to his feet so often that he looked as though he were trying to sit on a hedgehog. When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered. We all laughed. Fudge greeted everyone in the box before turning to my own family.

He shook hands with Mom and Dad before turning to me. I smiled. "Hi, Mr. Fudge," I said.

"Tara, my dear," Mr. Fudge greeted, grabbing my hand like I was an old friend. "How are you?"

"Good. Ready to see the game!" I said excitedly.

Fudge's eyes dropped down to my shirt. "Rooting for Ireland, I see?"

"No Stars in the tournament this year, so Ireland it is."

"Better luck next year," Fudge said, grinning at the put-out luck on Dad's face. "Perhaps one day you can join just like your dad did and whip them into shape."

"Not a bad idea, Mr. Fudge," I said sweetly.

Percy shot me a jealous look, likely having been unaware of just how close our families were. Highly embarrassed, Percy repaired his broken glasses with his wand and thereafter remained in his seat, throwing jealous looks at Harry and me, whom Cornelius Fudge had greeted like two old friends. Fudge had met both Harry and me a few times before, and Fudge shook Harry's hand in a fatherly fashion, asked how he was, and introduced him to the wizards on either side of him. Fudge had always liked Harry a lot - probably because he thought that he had 'claims' on the Boy Who Lived...

"Harry Potter, you know," Fudge told the Bulgarian minister loudly, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold and didn't seem to understand a word of English. "Harry Potter… oh come on now, you know who he is… the boy who survived You-Know-Who… you do know who he is -"

It appeared that Fudge had been forced to speak with the assistance of sign language all day to communicate with him - which was rather comical, seeing as Fudge clearly understood very little of how sign language actually worked. Harry appeared quite awkward as the two of them motioned back and forth to him. The Bulgarian wizard suddenly spotted Harry's scar and started gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it. I snorted, driving my head into Harry's shoulder. He didn't look like he knew whether he should shake his hand or just continue trying to avoid eye contact.

But something about the entire thing struck me as funny. "Don't most Ministers speak English?" I asked no one in particular.

"Apparently not that one," Crouch said grumpily.

"Right..." I mumbled.

"Knew we'd get there in the end," Fudge said wearily to Harry. "I'm no great shakes at languages; I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house-elf's saving him a seat... Good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places… ah, and here's Lucius!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned quickly. I glanced over a little bit slower. I knew that Malfoy would be furious to see us up here. A mad grin spread over my face as I met eyes with the Malfoy family. Edging along the second row to three still-empty seats right behind Mr. Weasley were none other than Dobby the house-elf's former owners: Lucius Malfoy; his son, Draco; and Draco's mother, Narcissa Malfoy. I had only met her once before. It was a little strange to see her here. I hadn't thought that she was even fond of Quidditch.

Harry and Draco Malfoy had been enemies ever since their very first journey to Hogwarts. Even though I had started off as quasi-friends with Draco, I had ended up hating him after seeing the way that he treated Harry. A pale boy with a pointed face and white-blond hair, Draco greatly resembled his father. His mother was blonde too; tall and slim, she would have been nice-looking if she hadn't been wearing a look that suggested there was a nasty smell under her nose. Their entire family had an air of superiority surrounding them.

They gazed around the box for a moment before landing on our large group. Mr. Malfoy looked absolutely furious to see that we were here. He likely hated even thinking that he was somewhere that Mr. Weasley could also get into. Mrs. Malfoy looked as though she couldn't have cared less. But I did notice her send a sharp glare at Mom. Clearly, there was a lot of hatred between the two of them. Draco glanced over at us with a look of absolute loathing. I let a large grin spread over my face as I waved at him.

"Oh, did I forget to mention? We're also here at the personal invitation. My father organized most of this event, you know? Not to mention that the rest of us are here at the personal invitation of Ludo Bagman," I told him sweetly.

"Pity seats," Malfoy sneered.

Turning around us, I grinned again. Everyone in our group was happily chatting with others. The Malfoy's were standing grumpily in the corner. "I notice no one's spoken to you yet. They seem quite happy to have us around," I said curiously.

Malfoy stepped forward irritably, looking like he was about to punch me. "You little -"

"Ah, Fudge," Mr. Malfoy said, interrupting our pissing match, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic.

Malfoy was stopped dead in his tracks a few feet away from me. "Behave," I chided playfully. Malfoy's eyes narrowed into slits as Harry and Ron grinned. "Wouldn't want to make daddy mad, would you?"

"How are you?" Mr. Malfoy asked Fudge, once again distracting our conversation. "I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

"How do you do, how do you do?" Fudge asked, smiling and bowing to Mrs. Malfoy. He did the same with Draco. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk - Obalonsk - Mr. - well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else - you know Arthur Weasley and Marcus and Julia Nox, I daresay?"

It was a tense moment. Had things been a little different, I would have laughed. They all looked furious to see each other. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, and my own father looked at each other and I vividly recalled the last time two of them had come face-to-face: It had been in Flourish and Blotts' bookshop, and they had had a fight. As far as I knew, Dad and Mr. Malfoy regularly found themselves in verbal altercations. Mom and Narcissa Malfoy had hated each other since their Hogwarts days. Mr. Malfoy's cold gray eyes swept over Mr. Weasley and Dad, and then up and down the row.

"Narcissa," Mom greeted coldly.

"Julia," Mr. Malfoy responded just as tersely.

"Good evening, Marcus," Mr. Malfoy said stiffly. 

"Evening, Lucius," Dad said as if the very words were choking him.

"Good lord, Arthur. What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?" Lucius Malfoy asked softly. His gaze then turned to Dad. "Or perhaps a little charity."

Mr. Weasley stiffened slightly. "At least no one else had to bully their way into the Top Box," I mumbled, loudly enough for Mr. Malfoy to hear me.

"Tara," Dad chided, looking amused anyway.

Fudge, who wasn't listening to the tense conversation, said, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"Or bribery," I added quietly.

"Tara," Dad snapped again, still grinning.

"How - how nice," Mr. Weasley said, with a very strained smile.

The Malfoy's were some of the most disgusting kinds of Purebloods around. They were the kinds that made everyone else think that we were all pompous assholes. I noticed that Mr. Malfoy's eyes had returned to Hermione, who went slightly pink but stared determinedly back at him. I was proud of her for not bending to one of the most intimidating wizarding patriarchs. Besides, I knew exactly what was making Mr. Malfoy's lip curl like that. The Malfoy's prided themselves on being Purebloods; in other words, they considered anyone of Muggle descent, like Hermione, second-class.

Malfoy had called her cruel names enough times to demonstrate their slightest disdain for anyone but the Sacred Twenty-Nine (save my own family and the Weasley's, whom they considered blood traitors). It was a good thing that, under the gaze of the Minister of Magic, Mr. Malfoy didn't dare say anything. He would have to act like none of this bothered him. Mr. Malfoy nodded sneeringly to Mr. Weasley and my parents and continued down the line to his seats. Draco shot Harry, Ron, Hermione, and me one contemptuous look, then settled himself between his mother and father.

"Slimy gits," Ron muttered as he, Harry, and Hermione turned to face the field again.

In the meantime, I stood from my chair. "Where are you going?" Dad asked.

"Bathroom. Don't want to miss any of the match," I explained.

It was needless to say that I would be pissed if I missed any of the match because of my small bladder. "Hurry up. Game's starting soon, I think," Dad said, nodding thoughtfully.

"Be right back," I called to the others.

They all called back their goodbyes to me as I stood from my chair and brushed past the others in the box. I thought about kicking the Malfoy's as I headed back past their row but decided against making a scene. Instead, I merely headed out with only a sharp glare sent in their direction. The bathroom was just on the other side of the Top Box. It was a short walk for us, thankfully. As I closed in on the entrance to the bathroom I realized, much to my displeasure, that Draco Malfoy was following close behind me.

He looked like he was trying to catch up with me. "I can't even go to the bathroom without you stalking me?" I snapped, whipping around to him.

Malfoy grinned, strolling up behind me. "Relax, Nox. Just using the restroom before the game."

"Convenient timing," I huffed.

There was no way. The only reason that he had followed me was that he wanted to mess with me. That was the only time he ever was in the same place as me. Just because he wanted to make me angry. There was a good chance that he had something nasty to tell me. Likely about my relationship with Cedric. That was usually his favorite thing to mess with me about. I tried to dart off into the bathroom, but Malfoy had much longer legs than I did. He stepped in front of me and crossed his arms teasingly. I narrowed my eyes.

"How are things with Diggory?" Malfoy asked slowly.

Him asking about my relationship was baffling enough. "What?" I asked, surprised.

"Just being friendly," Malfoy said, shrugging.

"We are not friends," I snapped.

We hadn't been friends since that day on the Hogwarts Express before First Year when I'd found out the kind of person he really was. "No. Of course, we're not," Malfoy agreed.

Why was he even bothering talking to me if he had admitted that we weren't friends? Malfoy had never made any sense to me and likely would never make any sense. One minute he acted like things were fine between the two of us and I would have momentary faith that things might actually work out and we could be friends. But then something would happen and we would be right back to square one. I stood with my arms crossed over my chest, glancing anywhere but at Malfoy, searching for something snarky to say.

Instead, what came out was, "Where's Parkinson?"

"Not at the game," Malfoy explained. I nodded vaguely. "Jealous?"

"You wish," I snapped. Malfoy merely scowled at me. I wished that I'd run into Cedric, not him. "As you see, I'm still perfectly happy with Cedric. He's just in his seats with his father."

Malfoy's pale eyes glittered slightly. "He notice that he has competition?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, rolling my eyes. There was literally no competition for Cedric. I liked only him. I had plenty of male friends, but everything was platonic. We both knew that. That was when I realized that Malfoy had likely overheard or perhaps seen a bit of my conversation with Phil. Or perhaps the discussion with my father. "For the last time, Phil Troy was just teasing me because of my shirt. There was nothing more."

Malfoy's gaze dropped to my shirt. I scowled at him as he grinned sleazily at me. "That is a nice shirt," he said slowly. "And not what I was talking about."

Any nasty retort I had died on my tongue. If he wasn't talking about Phil Troy and the shirt, what did he mean? "What were you talking about?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound stupid.

Malfoy laughed. "Clueless, Nox."

No one else liked me... Did they? "Who are you talking about?" I asked sharply. Malfoy merely continued laughing. "Yourself?"

Malfoy's grin almost immediately dropped off of his face. We had been in that tense relationship for far too long. Ron had even once asked if it was possible that Malfoy could have liked me. I had instantly shot down the possibility. Just because he had saved me from a falling glass jar in Second Year didn't mean that he liked me. But now it seemed like it might have made just the slightest bit of sense. Why else would he have been so invested in my relationship? And, if not referring to Phil Troy, who else could have liked me?

"Don't flatter yourself. I hate you," Malfoy hissed bitterly.

"That so?" I asked. Malfoy nodded. "Because you still seem oddly concerned about my relationship with Cedric. Not only that, but you now seem concerned that someone else might like me."

His eyes narrowed into little slits, as they always did when I teased him and he couldn't think of a comeback. "Oh, I can't wait to see your relationship with Diggory crash and burn," Malfoy said.

He usually wound up attacking my relationship with Cedric. It was nothing new. "You really are jealous. That's cute, Malfoy," I said happily. If he really did like me, I would never let him forget it. Malfoy scowled nastily. "Who can blame you? It was only a matter of time before you fell for me."

"Tara."

For a second, I stared at Malfoy. That didn't sound quite right... and I hadn't even seen his mouth move. That was when I realized that it wasn't Malfoy who had just spoken. I turned back to see Cedric standing just a few feet behind the two of us. My face instantly turned beet red. Had he overheard our conversation? I hoped not. He had to know that I was just messing with Malfoy and that there was nothing there. Judging by the smile on his face, I assumed he hadn't. I brushed past Malfoy - who was still scowling at me - and walked up to Cedric.

"Hey," Cedric said, wrapping an arm around my back. "Didn't think you were this high up."

"Top Box, actually," I explained proudly. Cedric smiled. "Where are you?"

"A few boxes down," Cedric explained. His gaze turned to Malfoy and dropped. He forced himself to give a slight smile. "Draco."

"Diggory," Malfoy replied.

Neither one of the boys looked thrilled to see each other. I still didn't know why Malfoy hated Cedric as much as he did unless it really was because he liked me. But I mostly doubted that. He hated me too much. He just hated seeing me happy. That must have been it. I grinned playfully at Cedric and walked over to him, leaning up and planting a kiss against his mouth. He grinned and wrapped an arm around my lower back. As I cracked an eye, I noticed Malfoy huff and walk off. I remained locked with Cedric for a little while before we finally released each other. I didn't step away from him.

"I should come to sneak out to the bathroom more often," Cedric teased.

I laughed softly, nudging his chest. "I'd offer you to meet me in the middle of the game but I actually really don't want to miss any of it," I said honestly. Cedric nodded his agreement. "I was just heading to the bathroom beforehand."

"I'd hate to hold you up then. Still on for midnight?" Cedric asked.

"Still on. I'll meet you by the merchants. They'll be celebrating into the morning," I said carelessly.

"Deal." We were about to go our separate ways when he glanced down at my torso. "Cute shirt, by the way."

"Glad you like it." A small grin turned up on my lips as I planted my hands on my hips. "Care to take me up on it?" I asked teasingly.

"Oh, it would be my genuine pleasure," Cedric said, grinning.

His lips were tilted up in a brilliant grin. The one that I had become so fond of. Cedric's hands dropped from the middle of my back to the very bottom, his fingertips brushing against my waist. I laughed slightly as he leaned into me and pressed another long kiss against my lips. My arms wrapped up over his shoulders to pull him directly into me. I was about to push him back into the shadows - for a slightly longer bonding session - when I noticed a few shadows moving around in the Top Box.

Suddenly I pulled back from Cedric. The last thing I needed was to get caught with him again. Cedric arched a brow curiously, wondering what was wrong. "My parents are right there, though, so we'll save this for later," I teased, patting him on the chest. "See you after the match!"

"See you in a few hours," Cedric laughed.

Or a week, depending on how long the match went on. If it went on for more than a night, they would continue swapping out players. The audience would force themselves to stay awake. It was always fascinating to see how long we could all stay awake. I quickly darted into the bathroom - which I had to make fast after the interruptions from Malfoy and Cedric - and immediately ran back into the box, taking my seat again. Dad asked what had taken me so long, but I never got the chance to answer, which was likely a good thing.

Because the next moment, Ludo Bagman charged into the box. "Everyone ready?" Ludo asked, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. "Minister - ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo," Fudge said comfortably. 

Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said "Sonorus!"

They didn't even get to use a microphone? Wizards really could be completely useless... At least in the States, we were allowed and encouraged to use Muggle electronics. I rolled my eyes at Ludo and leaned back in my chair a little bit. This was the moment I had been looking forward to all summer. The beginning of the Quidditch World Cup. Ludo cleared his throat and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over everyone, booming into every corner of the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen… welcome! Welcome to the finals of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The spectators screamed and clapped. I did the same, hopping from my seat to cheer madly for a few seconds. We would be spending most of the match standing, anyway. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite us was wiped clean of its last message (Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans - A Risk With Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0. Malfoy was sitting behind me, glaring now that I was standing in his way. I grinned and straightened up again.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce… the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!" Ludo continued.

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval. I cheered a little bit too. While I was still rooting for Ireland - who were overall better players and more entertaining to watch - I did also like Bulgaria. Krum was definitely a good Seeker. In fact, he was one of the best in the league. Not to mention he was still a teenager. There was a loud song playing over the stadium. It was slightly angry-sounding, which matched the tenseness that the Bulgarian players always seemed to embody.

"I wonder what they've brought," Mr. Weasley said thoughtfully, leaning forward in his seat.

"No way," I groaned, spotting their mascots.

"Ah!" Mr. Weasley gasped.

He suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. I rolled my eyes again. Who used those as mascots? "Are those seriously -" I started, before getting cut off.

"Veela!" Mr. Weasley called.

"What are Veel -?"

Harry never got a chance to finish. A hundred Veela were now gliding out onto the field, and his question was answered for him. Veela were women who used their beauty to lure men to them. They were easily some of the most beautiful women I had ever seen, much to my displeasure. They were as beautiful as everyone had always claimed they were. I wished that they weren't. I had always hated the idea of Veela. Before today, I had only ever seen pictures of them. The thing about Veela was that they weren't completely human.

As I glanced over to the others, I could see that they were quite puzzled by the mystery of the Veela. The adults, Ginny, and Hermione seemed to be the only ones who remained mostly unaffected. I laughed at Hermione's bewildered expression over the boys' reactions. She had always hated girls who relied on looks. The Veela's skin shone moon-bright and their white-gold hair fanned out behind them without wind. Then their music started. The boys looked like they were in love. A bitter thought in the back of my mind wondered how Cedric was reacting to them.

The Veela had started to dance to their music. I glanced over at Harry and rolled my eyes. He was reacting like almost every other man and boy in the stadium. His mind had clearly gone completely and blissfully blank. That was the way the Veela worked. It was almost pathetic. But it was more dangerous than anything else. They had made men kill themselves trying to impress them before. The last Dad had told me was that it just mattered to men that heard Veela sing that they kept watching the Veela because they felt if they stopped dancing, terrible things would happen.

It must have been quite something to feel. As far as I was concerned, it was pathetic and annoying. As the Veela danced faster and faster, wild, half-formed thoughts appeared to be chasing through Harry and Ron's dazed minds. They both looked like they were about to do something to get themselves killed. They both looked as though they wanted to do something very impressive, right now. Harry was beginning to climb up onto his chair, as was Ron. Were they planning on jumping from the box into the stadium? I rolled my eyes again.

"What's happening?" Hermione asked, noticing that I also remained unaffected.

"Veela hold trances over men. They tend to do stupid and dangerous things to try and call their attention. They're kind of like sirens in that sense," I explained to her over the music.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Pathetic."

"Should we let them keep on it?" I asked.

She stared at them for a moment before shaking her head. "Probably not. Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione asked.

It appeared that she had pulled Harry out of his trance. He looked absolutely shocked. It was pretty obvious that he had forgotten where he was. The music that caused the Veela trance had stopped. Harry blinked. Hermione stared at me as if to ask if they were serious. I nodded at her. Harry was standing up, and one of his legs was resting on the wall of the box. Next to him, Ron was frozen in an attitude that looked as though he were about to dive from a springboard. All around the stadium, young men were in similar positions.

"You two morons feeling alright?" I asked them.

Both Ron and Harry looked stunned. Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the Veela to go. The women all seemed thrilled to see them go. Harry was with the men who wanted them to stay. I could see it in his eyes. The trance the Veela had put over them. He would, of course, be supporting Bulgaria. He seemed to be wondering vaguely why he had a large green shamrock pinned to his chest. Ron, meanwhile, was absentmindedly shredding the shamrocks on his hat. Mr. Weasley, smiling slightly, leaned over to Ron and tugged the hat out of his hands.

"You'll be wanting that once Ireland have had their say," Mr. Weasley told his son.

"Huh?" Ron asked, staring open-mouthed at the Veela, who had now lined up along one side of the field.

Hermione made a loud tutting noise. I laughed at her. She looked disgusted with the simple fact that the men were so easily able to be distracted by the Veela. But that was the way they were designed. They were almost like sirens. I turned to the twins and rolled my eyes at them. They seemed to be trying to pull the Irish propaganda off of each other, wondering why they were planning on supporting them. I assumed once they saw the leprechauns, they would remember. In the meanwhile, Hermione reached up and pulled Harry back into his seat.

"Honestly!" she said.

"And now, kindly put your wands in the air… for the Irish National Team Mascots!" Ludo Bagman roared.

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd made noises of affection, as though at a fireworks display. It was lovely to watch. Ireland always had been good sports. The rainbow then faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it.

"Excellent!" Ron yelled as the shamrock soared over us, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off our heads and seats.

There was no doubt of what it was. The same thing Ireland brought to all of their games. The same thing that I had always enjoyed watching. Mostly because they were bad sports. It always made for an amusing game. Squinting up at the shamrock, I realized that it was indeed actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green. They were leprechauns. A little stereotypical for Ireland, but it worked in their favor.

"Leprechauns!" Mr. Weasley said, echoing my thoughts, over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold.

"There you go," Ron yelled happily, stuffing a fistful of gold coins into Harry's hand, "For the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!"

"That's leprechaun gold, you fool," I pointed out.

"So?" Ron asked confusedly.

He really didn't know the whole point of leprechaun gold? "Nothing - don't worry about it," I said, waving him off.

He would figure out soon enough exactly what was wrong with leprechaun gold. I just couldn't believe that he didn't know. He was a Pureblood! It would likely help it he paid a little more attention in school. Hermione was firmly locked on watching the field. The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the Veela and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match. It wouldn't be long before the two mascots began trying to distract the other.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome - the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you - Dimitrov!" Ludo shouted.

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters. It was incredible to see. The Bulgarian players had always been fast. But there was a problem with it. They were controlled but refused to play as dirty as the Irish team did. They had traditionally used Cleansweep Eleven's but they had upgraded to Firebolt's this year. I grinned brilliantly. They were the best brooms in the world. Theirs were also a bright scarlet, just like Gryffindor.

"Ivanova!" A second scarlet robed player zoomed out. "Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand - Krum!"

"That's him, that's him!" Ron yelled, following Krum with his Omnioculars.

Five red figures flew out that time. I watched with fascination as another one of them flew out at top speed and advanced over the other five quickly. He shot all the way up to the top of the auditorium before performing a rather death-defying stunt. He flew backward up in the air before standing up by his arms on the broom. He came back down onto the broom and hung up towards the top of the stadium. Screens faded over the far side of the auditorium, showing Viktor Krum.

"Krum!" the Weasley's all shouted excitedly.

"Yes!" George cried.

Viktor Krum turned and waved to the crowd. He didn't exactly look happy. He looked a little more intense, ready to play the game. I couldn't blame him. Playing to the crowd would be much easier once the game was over, one way or another. Ron was looking through his Omnioculars and Harry quickly focused his own. I followed suit. It was the first time I'd ever seen the Bulgarian Seeker up close. Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.

"And now, please greet - the Irish National Quidditch Team! Presenting Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand - Lynch!" Ludo's voice shouted.

Seven green blurs swept onto the field; I screamed at the top of my lungs. It was easy to see that Ireland was the favorite in the competition. I spun a small dial on the side of his Omnioculars and slowed the players down enough to read the word 'Firebolt' on each of their brooms and see their names, embroidered in silver, upon their backs. Most of the professional Quidditch players in the league used Firebolts. The Irish team shot straight through the Bulgarian team forcing them to scatter. There was loud laughter from the crowd.

As always, the Irish team was a lot more personable than the Bulgarian team. The Bulgarians were tough. They just did what they came to do. The Irish were showmen. I watched as the Irish team made a few loops around the pitch that was nearly three times the size of the one at Hogwarts. They all soared up to the Top Box to greet the Ministry workers. I found myself quickly meeting eyes with Phil Troy, who had stopped in front of me. His gaze met mine and he gave me the slightest grin.

It didn't matter that the little look was almost nothing. It didn't matter that it had only lasted a moment. The screens enlarged everything at least two hundred times. The slight smile was enough that everyone in the entire stadium began making cooing noises. Even the Bulgarian players were laughing. My face burned with embarrassment as the laughter echoed around me. No one at Hogwarts would ever let that go. It would likely be in the papers by the morning. And Cedric... had he just seen that? I tried to find him in the other box, but Dad's glare was in my face.

"I hate that damn shirt," Dad huffed.

"I -"

"Don't even bother," he interrupted, waving me off.

My face burned again. I hadn't wanted that or asked for it... "Sorry..." I mumbled.

Harry and Ron were rolling their eyes. "Oh, Diggory's not going to like that one," Harry told me.

"I didn't do anything!" I shouted, annoyed with them.

"Not you," Harry said, laughing at my irritation with the entire situation. "Bet he's rooting for Bulgaria now."

Maybe if I was lucky, Cedric hadn't seen it. But I knew that my face had also been up on those screens for a few moments. There was no way that he had missed it. I glanced down a few boxes and tried to meet his eyes. He was five boxes down from us. I could just barely see him. He wasn't looking at me. Instead, he was looking (scowling) at the Irish team. He eventually turned to look toward me. His face was straight. I gave him a slight smile that he took a moment to respond to. He mouthed 'I liked you first' and I immediately laughed, looking back at the pitch.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a mustache to rival Vermin's, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the field. I was glad that they had all at least stopped laughing at me. Thankfully Phil Troy was looking back out onto the pitch and watching Hassan Mostafa. A silver whistle was protruding from under the mustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other. I grinned brilliantly. It was almost here.

My legs began to bounce excitedly. We were almost to game time. I spun the speed dial on my Omnioculars back to normal, watching closely as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open - four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and (I saw it for the briefest moment, before it sped out of sight) the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch. Harry gave me a quick grin that I responded to. I knew that we both wished that we were out playing with them. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeey're off!" Ludo screamed over the audience. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

It was Quidditch as I had never seen it played before. It was nothing that I could even manage. The entire time I could see Dad moving and reaching out, almost as if he wanted to jump into the game. Mom was laughing at him lovingly. I spent almost half of the early part of the day jumping out of my seat in excitement and then sitting down again. I was pressing my Omnioculars so hard to my face that they were cutting into the bridge of my nose. I kept having to spin the Omnioculars back and forth between full speed and slowed down just to catch everything.

The speed of the players was incredible - the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names. I was sure that I wouldn't be able to speak later with how much I was screaming. I wished that I could do even a tiny piece of what they were doing. I spun the slow dial on the right of my Omnioculars again, pressed the play-by-play button on the top, and I was immediately watching in slow motion while glittering purple lettering flashed across the lenses and the noise of the crowd pounded against my eardrums.

Hawkshead attacking formation, I read as I watched the three Irish Chasers zoom closely together, Troy in the center, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon the Bulgarians. Porskoff ploy flashed up next, as Troy made as though to dart upward with the Quaffle, drawing away the Bulgarian Chaser Ivanova and dropping the Quaffle to Moran. One of the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov, swung hard at a passing Bludger with his small club, knocking it into Moran's path; Moran ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle; and Levski, soaring beneath, caught it.

A moment later, Phil Troy caught the Quaffle and shot it through the inner circle. "TROY SCORES!" Bagman roared, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten zero to Ireland!"

"Yes!" I shouted, hopping to my feet.

"What?" Harry yelled, looking wildly around through his Omnioculars. "But Levski's got the Quaffle!"

Idiot... "Harry, if you're not going to watch at normal speed, you're going to miss things!" Hermione shouted, who was dancing up and down, waving her arms in the air while Troy did a lap of honor around the field.

"You have to watch it back later, not now!" I told him.

"This is incredible," Harry gasped, looking at me.

"Makes you want to be a professional player, right?" I asked him.

"Definitely," Harry said brightly.

The professional Quidditch players were incredible. I could see Dad's desire to join them. He looked so desperate to jump into the middle of the game. I knew that he missed being on the Stars. I looked away from him and quickly over the top of my Omnioculars to see that the leprechauns watching from the sidelines had all risen into the air again and formed the great, glittering shamrock. It was dancing and sparking slightly. Across the field, the Veela were watching them sulkily. I laughed happily.

Just because of the Veela, I didn't want Bulgaria to win. I would always be a little bit bitter about them. Clearly furious with himself, Harry spun his speed dial back to normal as play resumed. At least he had captured the first goal. He would be able to watch it back later. I diverted my eyes from the game just long enough to see Cedric also cheering over the game. It appeared that he had gotten over Phil Troy's earlier glance toward me. Which was good, considering I didn't really know what to make of that entire thing.

The entire time that we watched the game, Dad yelled back and forth about what the players should have been doing better, what each move was called, and how it should have been done. I knew it all but decided to let him have it. Harry was thrilled, listening to him. He definitely knew enough about Quidditch to see that the Irish Chasers were superb. They worked as a seamless team, their movements so well coordinated that they appeared to be reading one another's minds as they positioned themselves, and the rosette on Harry's chest kept squeaking their names.

"Troy - Mullet - Moran!"

Their teamwork was so flawless that I would have thought they had all grown up together. They were incredible. None of the students on any of the Quidditch teams at Hogwarts were even close to being that good. Not even me. But I hoped that one day I could be that good. Within ten minutes of the start of the game, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad supporters. The Bulgarians clearly weren't happy with the sudden increase in Ireland's lead.

The match became still faster, but more brutal. I was honestly surprised that no one had gotten injured yet. It didn't usually take that long for someone to break something at the Quidditch World Cup. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria's first goal. I rolled my eyes bitterly.

"Fingers in your ears!" Mr. Weasley bellowed as the Veela started to dance in celebration. 

It was mostly for the boys since it wasn't anywhere near as easy for the Veela to affect women. Harry and Ron screwed up their eyes too; it was obvious that they both wanted to keep their minds on the game. I glanced over at Cedric's curiously. He didn't even look over at the Veela. He was firmly forced on the game. I smiled brightly, happy that he was completely unaffected. After a few seconds, I chanced a glance at the field. The Veela had stopped dancing, and Bulgaria was again in possession of the Quaffle.

"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova - oh I say!" Bagman roared.

One hundred thousand wizards gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the center of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from airplanes without parachutes. I looked through my Omnioculars to see if I could find the Snitch. They must have seen it, but I certainly didn't. Where was it? It didn't look like anyone else could find it either. They were all looking back and forth. I followed their descent through my Omnioculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was. How could they see it?

"They're going to crash!" Hermione screamed, two seats down from me.

"No, they're not!" I shouted back.

We were both half right. I knew that Krum was better trained than that. He had perfected this move last season. I remembered vaguely hating them after they used it against the States. At the very last second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiraled off, just as he was known to do. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. How the hell could he have missed where the ground was? A huge groan rose from the Irish seats. I slammed my hands down against the seat in aggravation.

"Fool! Krum was feinting!" Mr. Weasley moaned.

"Idiot!" I shouted.

"It's time-out!" Bagman yelled loudly, "As trained medi-wizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!"

"He'll be okay, he only got plowed!" Charlie said reassuringly to Ginny, who was hanging over the side of the box, looking horror-struck. "Which is what Krum was after, of course…"

"I might not like Bulgaria, but even I've gotta admit that Krum has style," I admitted quietly.

Dad huffed. "Or Lynch is just an idiot."

Dad had never liked Aidan Lynch. He was in his thirties and had known Dad since the two of them were younger kids. From what he had last told me, they had never really liked each other. At the moment, I felt kind of bad for Lynch. He was sure to feel like an idiot when he woke up and realized that he fell for one of Krum's signature tricks. I hastily pressed the replay and play-by-play buttons on my Omnioculars, twiddled the speed dial, and put them back up to my eyes, determined to learn the trick. Maybe I could get Malfoy a black eye that way.

Or perhaps Harry could manage it. I watched as Krum and Lynch dived again in slow motion. Wronski defensive feint dangerous Seeker diversion read the shining purple lettering across my lenses. He would likely get a penalty for it. I saw Krum's face contorted with concentration as he pulled out of the dive just in time, while Lynch was flattened, and I couldn't understand how Lynch hadn't realized that Krum hadn't seen the Snitch at all, he was just making Lynch copy him. He did it in every one of the games he played in.

I had never seen anyone fly like that; Krum hardly looked as though he was using a broomstick at all; he moved so easily through the air that he looked unsupported and weightless. I turned my Omnioculars back to normal and focused them on Krum. He was now circling high above Lynch, who was being revived by medi-wizards with cups of potion. Focusing still more closely upon Krum's face, I saw his dark eyes darting all over the ground a hundred feet below. He was using the time while Lynch was revived to look for the Snitch without interference.

That was why he was one of the best Seekers in the world. "Remind me to try that when we're back at Hogwarts," I whispered to Harry.

"Absolutely," he responded.

"Let me know how it goes," Dad said at the exact same time Mom said, "Don't you dare."

The two of them stared at each other. Mom had a heated glare as Dad's face paled slightly. He cleared his throat and turned to me awkwardly. Mom was watching him closely. "Right. Don't you dare do that. You're not a professional and untrained," Dad warned.

"Promise I won't try it," I told Mom as convincingly as possible.

She glared at me for a moment before looking back toward the field. Dad leaned over and dropped his voice as low as possible so that I could still hear him. "Let me know how it goes."

"Will do," I whispered back, laughing.

He looked happier with me today than he had in days. Maybe the two of us were going to be okay. I turned and glanced back at the ground to see what was happening. Lynch had gotten to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt, and kicked back off into the air. I clapped politely, glad that he was okay. His revival seemed to give Ireland a new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivaled by anything I had seen so far.

After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. My voice was already hoarse from having screamed as much as I had. I was absolutely positive that I was going to be deaf and mute by the end of the game. But I couldn't help myself. There was something exhilarating about being at the World Cup. It always helped that the team I was rooting for was in the lead. Ireland was now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier as Bulgaria realized that catching the Snitch might not help them.

"Are the games usually this fast?" Harry asked me.

"No. Ireland's Chasers are too good for Bulgaria. They're here mostly because of Krum. The game's going to be a blowout if he doesn't catch the Snitch soon. Usually, you've got two teams with superb Chasers. Hard for either side to score," I explained.

Harry stared at them, starry-eyed. "They're incredible."

"Give it a while longer. The game's bound to get dirtier. Ireland's not exactly known for playing fair," I told him.

It was undeniable that Bulgaria was good, but Ireland's Chasers were so much better. All of their Chasers were far too good for Bulgaria's one good Seeker. As Mullet shot toward the goal posts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. When Zograf knocked straight into her, I jumped up in fury. Harry looked at me in shock. He likely hadn't even noticed the foul. There was a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast, told those who hadn't realized what it was that it had been a foul.

"Foul!" I shrieked loudly.

"Cobbing!" Dad howled, jumping up next to me.

"Honestly, you two..." Mom groaned, rolling her eyes in embarrassment.

"That's rubbish!" the twins shouted.

I grinned and leaned over to Mom. "Make that four," I teased.

"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing - excessive use of elbows!" Bagman informed the roaring spectators. "And yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"

A howling laugh escaped my mouth and the rest of Ireland's supporters. Since they were usually the nastier players, it was nice to see Bulgaria get the penalty. The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet had been fouled, now darted together to form the words 'HA, HA, HA!' The leprechauns had always been some of the funniest mascots in the league. The Veela on the other side of the field leaped to their feet, tossed their hair angrily, and started to dance again.

As one, the Weasley boys and Harry stuffed their fingers into their ears, but Hermione and me, who hadn't bothered, were soon tugging on Harry's arm. He looked shocked. It was always funny to watch the men react to the Veela. Mostly because they were so hard to fight back against. Except for my boyfriend, as it seemed. I grinned again. He seemed almost unfazed by the Veela. Harry turned to look at Hermione and me, and we both pulled his fingers impatiently out of his ears.

"Look at the referee!" Hermione said, giggling.

Unlike the men up in the stands, who had been smart enough to plug their ears, Mostafa hadn't bothered. The Veela were clearly affecting him. I began laughing loudly as Harry looked down at the field. Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing Veela and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly. He was trying to do anything to impress the Veela, who likely couldn't have cared less about him. It was notoriously tough to impress a Veela.

"Now, we can't have that!" Ludo Bagman cried though he sounded highly amused. "Somebody slap the referee!"

"No! Let him go on!" I called out.

There was some scattered laughter in the Top Box. But it didn't matter. They couldn't let him go on like the way he was. A medi-wizard came tearing across the field, his fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Most of the crowd began laughing even louder than they had been before. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; myself, watching through the Omnioculars again, saw that he looked exceptionally embarrassed and had started shouting at the Veela, who had stopped dancing and were looking mutinous.

"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots!" Bagman shouted.

"Oh, come on! The leprechauns are great!" I yelped.

"Now there's something we haven't seen before… Oh, this could turn nasty…" Bagman continued.

It did: The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words 'HEE, HEE, HEE.' The Irish supporters were all laughing along and cheering. Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians' arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle. They were sure to regret that.

"Two penalties for Ireland!" Bagman shouted, and the Bulgarian crowd howled with anger. I laughed with glee. "And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms… yes… there they go… and Troy takes the Quaffle…"

Play now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything we had yet seen. I was honestly shocked that someone hadn't died yet. Some of the hits looked incredibly painful. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy: Volkov and Vulchanov, in particular, seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human as they swung them violently through the air. They looked determined to break the bones of the Irish players. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom.

"Foul!" the Irish supporters roared as one, all standing up in a great wave of green.

"Foul!" Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice echoed. "Dimitrov skins Moran - deliberately flying to collide there - and it's got to be another penalty yes, there's the whistle!"

The leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, they formed a giant hand, which was making a very rude sign indeed at the Veela across the field. Most of the Irish fans were laughing hysterically. The notoriously uptight Bulgarians didn't look the slightest bit amused. I was honestly surprised that they didn't get a penalty for the gesture. The World Cup usually didn't appreciate any type of profanity, considering how many kids were around. But it was Ireland. They should have been expecting it.

"What are they doing?" Harry asked, watching Ireland, bewildered.

"Told you they don't play fair," I replied.

"Aren't there kids here?" Hermione asked.

"Live a little, Mione!" I teased.

The kids would all see it sooner or later anyway. Might as well be here. At their sudden gesture, the Veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. They were finally beginning to show their true colors. I smiled happily. I hated them. Watching through my Omnioculars, much to my pleasure, I saw that they didn't look remotely beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders.

"That's what a Veela looks like?" Harry asked, shocked.

"When they're angry," I said.

"And that, boys, is why you should never go for looks alone!" Mr. Weasley yelled over the tumult of the crowd below.

"Brains -" Hermione said.

"A sense of humor -" Ginny continued.

"And daring," I finished proudly.

"Who needs all that?" the twins asked together.

Ginny rolled her eyes at her brothers. Hermione scoffed. I looked over at them and had to suppress slapping them. "You two are pigs," I snapped.

They both winked at me and looked back at the game. I rolled my eyes at them. They were such pigs. I'd make sure to hit them after the game was over. Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to separate the Veela and the leprechauns, but with little success; meanwhile, the pitched battle below was nothing to the one taking place above. The players looked like they were about to be damned with the rules and murder each other. I turned this way and that, staring through my Omnioculars, as the Quaffle changed hands with the speed of a bullet.

"Levski - Dimitrov - Moran - Troy - Mullet - Ivanova - Moran again - Moran - MORAN SCORES!"

There was only enough time to say the names and barely even that. Bagman was falling behind and his voice was getting drowned out. The cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the Veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members' wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians. The game recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov. The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger and hit it as hard as possible toward Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him full in the face.

Despite knowing that it was rather rude, I instantly started laughing. It was always amusing watching someone get their nose broken. I knew how it felt anyway. It was more surprising than painful. There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Krum's nose certainly looked broken, there was blood everywhere, but Hassan Mostafa didn't blow his whistle. He had become distracted, and I couldn't blame him; one of the Veela had thrown a handful of fire and set his broom tail alight. There was more laughter of amusement - this time from everyone in the stadium.

No one really seemed to notice what was going on. At least, none of the referees. It was fine by me. If the referees didn't see that Krum was injured it would be impossible for him to see the Snitch, which meant that Ireland had an even better chance of winning. But I did want it to be fair. I wanted the best team to win. That meant that I wanted someone to realize that Krum was injured; even though I was supporting Ireland, just like the others, Krum was definitely the most exciting player on the field. Harry and Ron obviously felt the same.

"Time-out!" Ron demanded. "Ah, come on, he can't play like that, look at him -"

"Damn that looks like it hurt," I muttered.

But Krum made no indication that he couldn't play. "He needs to stop," Ron said.

But he could manage. It was just a little painful and very messy. "He's fine. I kept playing with a broken finger and collarbone. He can manage a nose," I said, waving Ron's concern off. "I don't see much difference anyway."

"Look at Lynch!" Harry yelled.

My eyebrow arched. What the hell was he talking about? It took me a moment to find whatever it was that Harry was talking about. He had always been able to find things better than me. That was the reason that he was a Seeker and I was a Chaser. Once I finally locked onto where Lynch was, I smiled brilliantly. Maybe he was a little more useful than I liked to give him credit for. For the Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive, and I was quite sure that this was no Wronski Feint; this was the real thing. He had somehow found the Snitch.

"He's seen the Snitch!" Harry shouted. "He's seen it! Look at him go!"

"Go, Lynch!" I shouted, hopping to my feet.

If he got the Snitch... I wasn't sure what I would do. But I would lose it. Ireland had to win. Half the crowd seemed to have realized what was happening; the Irish supporters rose in another great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on… but Krum was on his tail. Krum would catch it with his skill. But it would be tough through the blood. How he could see where he was going at the moment, I had no idea; there were flecks of blood flying through the air behind him, but he was drawing level with Lynch now as the pair of them hurtled toward the ground again.

"They're going to crash!" Hermione shrieked.

"They're not!" Ron roared.

"Lynch is!" Harry yelled.

There was no way. There was absolutely no way that Lynch was going to crash again. I would lose it. Lynch needed to get the hell off of the Irish team if he managed to somehow crash twice in the same damn game. But he was right. Harry was somehow right. For the second time, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry Veela. He would likely be having a pretty terrible time between the Veela and the wrath of his team members. No one liked seeing Seekers crash on the attempt to grab the Snitch.

"What a moron..." I groaned to myself. I jumped up and cupped my hands around my mouth. "Get a new Seeker!"

"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" Charlie bellowed, along the row.

"He's got it - Krum's got it - it's all over!" Harry shouted.

But it didn't matter. They had to look at the scoreboard. "They were too late though!" I yelled back.

It was too late. Somehow Ireland had managed to win, mostly because of their Chasers. I smiled with pride. Those were my kind of players. Krum, his red robes shining with blood from his nose, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand. Even I had to start clapping happily for him. He was very clearly a wonderful player. He was certainly either one of or the best Seeker in the league. I glanced over at the others and smiled. We were all cheering. Everyone appreciated Krum's skills, but we'd all wanted Ireland to win.

The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 across the crowd, who didn't seem to have realized what had happened. Of course, had Dad not been a human teleprompter throughout the game, I might not have known what was happening either. He was making all kinds of nonsensical screams right now. Probably in excitement, I couldn't quite tell. Then, slowly, as though a great jumbo jet were revving up, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.

"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH - BUT IRELAND WINS - good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

"Yes, Ireland!" I shouted excitedly.

"What did he catch the Snitch for?"Ron bellowed, even as he jumped up and down, applauding with his hands over his head. "He ended it when Ireland were a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!"

"He knew they were never going to catch up!" Harry shouted back over all the noise, also applauding loudly. "The Irish Chasers were too good… It's like you said, Tara... He wanted to end it on his terms, that's all..."

It would have made no sense for Krum to wait out the game. They would have continued getting further and further behind and risked Lynch getting the Snitch. "They still get all the points for the next season. They're better off losing the Quidditch World Cup this year but gaining the points to start ahead next year rather than risk Ireland getting them all," I explained to the others.

"It's ranked?" Hermione called over the noise.

"Just like the Inter-House Cup at Hogwarts is," I shouted back.

The Inter-House Cup was mostly played to let us see what the professional world was like. "He was very brave, wasn't he?" Hermione asked, leaning forward to watch Krum land as a swarm of medi-wizards blasted a path through the battling leprechauns and Veela to get to him. I arched a brow. Since when had she cared for professional Quidditch? "He looks a terrible mess..."

Taking the chance to harass her, I leaned over Harry. "Are you worried about him? Want to go patch him up?" I teased.

"Shut up," Hermione hissed. She glanced out over the Irish, celebrating in the Pitch. "Where's Troy?"

"Don't know," I mumbled dumbly.

Honestly, right up until then, I had kind of forgotten about Phil Troy. I wasn't sure whether it was just because I didn't know him or if it was because I just cared for Cedric that much more. I supposed that it didn't really matter. I just ignored Hermione's slight gaze. I didn't care about Phil Troy. Sure, he was the slightest bit cute. Actually, he was definitely good-looking. He reminded me of Cedric ever-so-slightly. But it didn't matter. After today, I was sure to never see him again. So I supposed that I could stare at him for a little while.

Or not... Nope... I didn't need to look at him right now. Instead, I glanced away to see what else was going on down below us. I put my Omnioculars to my eyes again. It was hard to see what was happening below because leprechauns were zooming delightedly all over the field. I had a feeling that it wouldn't be long before they started trying to attack the Veela. They had never gotten along well. Either way, I could just barely make out Krum, surrounded by medi-wizards. He looked surlier than ever and refused to let them mop him up.

Which was kind of disgusting, but I prided him on his refusal to get cleaned up. His team members were around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected. Not that I blamed them. It was a well-fought game. But they had still lost. A short way away, the Irish players were dancing gleefully in a shower of gold descending from their mascots. Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the Veela were shrinking back into their usual, beautiful selves now, though looking dispirited and forlorn.

"Vell, ve fought bravely," a gloomy voice said behind me.

Both Harry and I looked around; it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic. "You can speak English! And you've been letting me mime everything all day!" Fudge yelped, sounding outraged.

"Veil, it vos very funny," the Bulgarian minister said, shrugging.

A loud and ungraceful snort escaped my mouth. "Knew it," I giggled.

"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honor, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" Bagman roared excitedly.

The entire audience was either in hysterics or clapping excitedly. It had been a rather short game but no less exciting than the longer ones. It was definitely one to remember. My eyes were suddenly dazzled by a blinding white light, as the Top Box was magically illuminated so that everyone in the stands could see the inside. Squinting toward the entrance, I saw two panting wizards carrying a vast golden cup into the box, which they handed to Cornelius Fudge, who was still looking very disgruntled that he'd been using sign language all day for nothing.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers - Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.

My eyes locked onto the beautiful Quidditch World Cup. Damn it... One of those days I would kill someone to get a shot at it. One of those days I could really get that trophy. If I worked at it, at least. I clapped softly for Bulgaria - mostly for Krum. In the meantime, up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively; I could see thousands and thousands of Omniocular lenses flashing and winking in our direction. I grinned brightly.

One by one, the Bulgarians filed between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with their own minister and then with Fudge. Krum, who was last in line, looked a real mess. Two black eyes were blooming spectacularly on his bloody face. He was still holding the Snitch. I noticed that he seemed much less coordinated on the ground. He was slightly duck-footed and distinctly round-shouldered. It took everything in me not to laugh. But when Krum's name was announced, the whole stadium gave him a resounding, earsplitting roar.

Even I gave a respectful round of applause. They deserved it. After all, they had fought to be here too. And then came the Irish team. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered its approval. I cheered as the Irish team came to stand just in front of our row. By now, my hands were numb with clapping.

Things didn't remain happy and carefree for that long. Much to my surprise, excitement, and slight horror, my heart skipped a beat when Phil Troy's head turned to meet mine. For a moment I thought that he would look right past me. But he didn't. Instead, his eyes locked firmly onto mine and didn't leave. He walked up to me instead of walking away. I knew that everyone was watching the two of us. This had never happened before. Why did it have to happen to me? Omnioculars were flashing in our direction and my face flushed.

Troy stopped in front of Dad first. "Marcus. How are you?" he asked.

His face was flushed and he was slightly bloody from a Bludger to the shoulder. "Good, Phil. Good to see you again. Congratulations on the win," Dad replied, shaking his head.

"Thank you," Troy said.

"Might I introduce my wife, Julia?" Dad offered, pulling Mom over to us.

"Well played," she said, shaking his hand.

"Thank you," Troy repeated.

The four of us shifted awkwardly for a moment. I could tell that Troy was trying to find a way to Segway into a conversation with me. "From what I hear, you're already acquainted with my daughter," Dad said, also sensing the tension.

"We met on the staircase coming up," Troy explained, turning to me. "Good to see you again, Tara."

"Congratulations. Those were some incredible throws," I told him, getting up and shaking his hand. I noticed that he lingered with my own slightly longer. "I'm a Chaser on my own House Team at Hogwarts. All of this makes me hope one day I can be a professional player."

Troy smiled. "Well, you have two people to put in a good word for you."

"Much appreciated," I responded.

Troy grinned at me again. "Troy here is one of the youngest players in Ireland's history. Only seventeen, you know?" Dad said.

"Would have never guessed," I replied.

"Tara's starting her Fourth Year at Hogwarts this year," Dad told Troy.

Troy stared at me for a moment before laughing slightly. "Would have pegged you for being older," Troy teased.

"I'm turning fifteen in a few weeks," I explained.

"Ah," Troy hummed.

Was there something there? He seemed slightly... I wasn't quite sure what it seemed like. Slightly strange, I supposed. Trying to change the subject, I looked back at the World Cup and smiled. "Nice trophy to take home," I commented.

"Like to hold it for a moment?" Troy offered.

My heart skipped a beat. Was he kidding? "Are you kidding?" I asked disbelievingly.

"Not at all," Troy said, shaking his head.

"Thank you," I gasped.

Hell, yeah, I wanted to hold the trophy. I could have died perfectly happy after getting a chance to hold the trophy. I had never gotten to hold it when Dad had won it. He wouldn't let anyone else touch it. Troy grabbed the Cup and very carefully handed it over to me. I took the World Cup and held it lovingly for a moment, hoping that I wouldn't burst into tears like a crying fool. Everyone in the stadium was watching me in wonder. Ron and Harry looked like they were about to pass out from jealousy. Malfoy was scowling at me.

The others were smiling. Suddenly a man darted up in front of us holding a camera. "Picture over here, you two! For The Prophet!" the cameraman chirped.

"Me?" I asked, dumbfounded.

The photographer flashed a picture before shouting, "Thanks!"

He ran off without saying anything else. I handed the World Cup back to the other players before turning to Troy. "What was that about?" I asked him curiously.

Troy ran a hand over the back of his neck. "Might want to avoid The Prophet for the next few days. Sorry about that," he said guiltily.

Right... The Prophet was likely going to say something about how we were now together or something. "That's okay," I said.

"Are you all staying the night?" Troy asked us.

"Yes. We're in the first field," Dad explained.

Troy merely smiled at us. My face burned slightly. "Perhaps I'll drop by for a cup of tea. Catch up. You can tell me all about how the Stars are doing this season," Troy said to Dad.

But was that really what he wanted to talk about? Dad grinned anyway. "That'll be a long conversation."

"See you all later, then," Troy said.

He walked off, leaving us all with a final handshake. My face was likely still burning from the first time he had looked at me. It was not good. I also wanted to know how Cedric was reacting to the entire thing. I knew that he could see it on the screens. At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honor on their brooms (Aidan Lynch on the back of Connolly's, clutching hard around his waist and still grinning in a bemused sort of way), Bagman pointed his wand at his throat.

He then muttered, "Quietus."

In the meantime, Ron and Harry were huffing irritably. "How does that happen to you?" Ron asked.

This was not something I had asked for! It never was! "Do you think I asked for him to do that?" I shouted irritably. Ron merely glared at Troy. "I don't know him! And he's just being nice. He knows my dad, you know."

"You're so daft," Fred said, drawing my attention over to him. "He likes you."

"He doesn't know me!" I shouted back.

Fred rolled his eyes and leaned over to me. "He - thinks - you're - attractive," Fred said slowly, poking me in the chest with each word. "Pretty but a complete moron."

"Hey!" I barked at him. "I'm helping you with the joke shop."

Fred grinned. "And we love you for it."

That was when I remembered what those two morons had done earlier. "I can't believe you two almost blew your entire savings on this game!" I gasped, irritated with the two of them. They merely grinned. "Congratulations to the two of you, as well, I suppose. How did you know?"

"We followed the outcomes of the previous games closely," George explained.

"Mostly luck, then," I huffed.

The two of them were morons. They had almost lost their entire life savings. "Oh, Tara. So mistrusting," Fred teased.

"They'll be talking about this one for years, a really unexpected twist, that… shame it couldn't have lasted longer..." Bagman said slowly. "Ah yes… yes, I owe you... how much?"

For Fred and George were finally ignoring me. I grunted as the two of them threw me out of the way and darted over me, almost knocking me down onto the floor. Ron and Harry were laughing at me as Hermione and Ginny both offered me a hand up. In the meantime, the twins had just scrambled over the backs of their seats and were standing in front of Ludo Bagman with broad grins on their faces, their hands outstretched. I rolled my eyes at them. They owed me some of that money just for the stress they caused.


	9. The Dark Mark

"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling," Mr. Weasley implored Fred and George as we all made our way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.

"Don't worry, Dad, we've got big plans for this money. We don't want it confiscated," Fred said gleefully.

Mr. Weasley looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what those big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didn't want to know. I shook my head at him anyway. He really didn't want to know what the twins were up to. In the meantime, I grumpily shook my head at them. They had nearly given me a heart attack by losing all of their money. If they had really needed it that badly, I would have given it to them. But I also knew that they would have never taken it from me.

The twins appeared at my side about halfway down the stairs. I crossed my arms huffily. "You two have no idea how lucky you are," I snapped at them.

"It wasn't luck," Fred said.

"We knew what we were doing," George added.

"Liars," I hissed.

Fred and George exchanged a quick grin. "Always so mistrusting," Fred teased, slinging his arm over my shoulders.

Rolling my shoulders to push his arm off of me, I turned and shoved the twins back a few steps. "You two morons almost gambled away all of your savings!" I shouted.

"But we didn't," George pointed out.

"It worked out," Fred said.

"Because you're the luckiest bastards in the world," I seethed.

"Language, Tara," Fred teased.

"Shut up," I snapped, shoving him back again. He grinned. We walked down a few more flights when I remembered something. "Hey! Remind me to try that Wronski Feint when we're back at Hogwarts."

"Remind us to watch when you fly right into the dirt," Fred shot back.

"I'm a better player than you!" I barked.

"You absolutely are not!" Fred hissed indignantly.

"Are too!"

"Are not!"

"I got on the team in my First Year!" I said proudly.

"Because you broke the rules!" Fred argued.

It didn't take the others long to yell at us to shut up about our seemingly pointless argument. But I really didn't care to stop. I was better than Fred was and I would prove it to him. We ended up spending much of the walk back arguing about which one of us was the better Quidditch player. It must have eventually turned comical because I could hear the others laughing at us. Neither one of us was willing to admit that the other was better. As we walked out of the stadium, something distracted me.

"Does it feel like people are staring at us?" I whispered to the others.

What could we have possibly done to be drawing all of the stares from people across the field? "They're not staring at us. They're staring at you," Bill pointed out.

"Do I have something on my face?" I asked worriedly.

What the hell had the twins done to me while I wasn't paying attention? Bill laughed under his breath as Mom fell into step with me. "Not too often someone in the crowd catches the eye of a professional Quidditch player," she explained.

Oh... Everyone was staring at me because of Phil... "He was just being nice, honestly," I mumbled awkwardly.

That was the last thing I needed. My face in the Daily Prophet stating that I was the newest girlfriend of a professional Quidditch player. Dad was likely to get even angrier over that. Not to mention how Cedric would feel about his girlfriend being rumored to be someone else's. Then there was everyone back at Hogwarts. This would definitely manage to get around since so many people were here tonight. I rolled my eyes and walked with my head aimed toward the ground. Maybe they would forget about tonight if I managed to avoid the spotlight.

They were sure to forget once Phil Troy headed back to Ireland and continued training where I was sure he would manage to find some girl to fawn over him. That would be my plan in the meantime. Just avoid any attention on me for the next few weeks. It should have been easy enough. We were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Thankfully it seemed that everyone had the game to be thinking about and not my relationship status.

Raucous singing was borne toward us on the night air as we retraced our steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over our heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. I smiled and began humming along with them. It definitely added to the excitable air throughout the camp. When we finally reached the tents, nobody felt like sleeping at all, and given the level of noise around us, Mr. Weasley and my own parents agreed that we could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in.

We were chatting back and forth as I seated myself in between Fred and Harry. "So, who's better between you and Diggory?" Fred asked, drawing my attention over to him.

We must have been back on the Quidditch conversation. "Definitely me," I said.

"On that much, we agree," Fred teased.

We both started laughing. There was no doubt that Cedric was a very talented Quidditch player. In fact, I was willing to bet that he was one of the better players at Hogwarts. But I knew that I was better than him. As a Chaser, at least. I was still a lousy Seeker. We all sat around the table, laughing and chattering away as we had our late-night drinks. I was sipping on my tea, enjoying the calm air after the excitable day, as everyone else talked about the game. It didn't take long for the conversation to shift to Krum, who Ron seemed to idolize.

The twins were hooting and howling as they ran around the living room, Irish flags hanging off their shoulders. "There's no one like Krum," Ron growled, hopping up onto the table. "He's like a bird, the way he rides in the wind. He's more than an athlete, he's an artist."

The twins began running back and forth, flapping their arms around like a bird, just the way Ron had described. We all began laughing at them. The adults had all backed off, allowing us some time to enjoy ourselves. It took the twins less than ten seconds to begin bumbling about the tent. Harry was leaning back against the stakes of the tent as I placed myself on the edge of the table. Fred threw an Irish flag over Ron's shoulders and I laughed as he then threw it down to me. The twins were hanging over their younger brother's shoulders, muttering Krum's name.

"I think you're in love, Ron," Ginny teased, walking up to Ron's side and patting his leg.

"Shut up," he snapped at her.

"Viktor I love you!" George sang, hopping on the table with Ron.

"Viktor I do!" Fred continued, grabbing Ron's hand.

"When we're apart my heart beats only for you!" I sang, joining in alongside Harry.

Ron growled under his breath as George whacked him with a pillow. We all laughed as something that sounded a bit like an explosion along with some cheers echoed outside the tent. "Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on," Fred commented.

"Are you honestly surprised? They're not exactly known for being humble," I pointed out.

"You should be out there, then," Fred told me.

"Hah," I snapped, shoving him away from me. "You're hilarious."

One of these days I was really going to punch Fred dead in the nose. But that day wasn't today. Instead, we all jumped about the living room for a little while longer. I was sure that Ron was going to kill us all with our constant teasing about his love for Viktor Krum. I smiled as I caught sight of Mom and Dad curled up by the fireplace. I could tell that he was a lot more relaxed with the World Cup officially done with. In the back of my mind, I wondered if he might finally let up on the Cedric situation.

We were all soon arguing enjoyably about the match; Mr. Weasley got drawn into a disagreement about cobbing with Charlie, and it was only when Ginny fell asleep right at the tiny table and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor that Mr. Weasley called a halt to the verbal replays and insisted that everyone go to bed. Half of us were still complaining about having to go to bed. I wasn't really tired yet. From the other side of the campsite, I could still hear much singing and the odd echoing bang. Everyone else was still partying.

"Oh, I am glad I'm not on duty. I wouldn't fancy having to go and tell the Irish they've got to stop celebrating," Mr. Weasley muttered sleepily.

"Doubt they'd listen to you anyway," I said.

Hermione, Ginny, and I headed into our section of the tent. I was about to pull on my pajamas, simultaneously trying to finish the little bit of hot chocolate I had left, when there was a soft call from the outside of the tent. I arched a brow, wondering who it was. Everyone peeked their heads out of their rooms to see who it was. As Dad got up and opened the tent flap, I had to walk out of our section of the tent to actually see who it was. The boys' heads were in my way. Fred and George immediately began laughing.

"Phil!" Dad called happily. My face drained of color. I found myself glad that I wasn't in my pajamas yet. "Glad you stopped by."

"You've got to be joking," Harry scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Do you think I wanted this?" I snapped at him.

"Had to take you up on the opportunity to talk about Marcus Nox’s adventures since leaving the Stars. Might be a good time to get some advice," Phil joked.

"You’ll understand if I’m still a little biased," Dad said.

"Absolutely," Phil laughed.

Maybe there was a chance that he was only here to talk to Dad... That would definitely be preferable. I wasn't quite in the mood to have my best friends watching a professional Quidditch player flirt with me while I was trying to find a way to sneak out to see my boyfriend. Why can't I have just one part of my life be normal? I blushed as Phil walked into the tent. Harry and Ron looked interested to see him up close. Hermione and Ginny were giving me a long stare. Fred and George were still laughing. I found myself baffled by the entire evening.

To my surprise, Phil walked straight up to me. "Tara," he greeted. "Good to see you again."

"You, too. Not joining in on the celebrations?" I questioned, throwing my head toward the tent flap.

"I will just a little while later."

"But we're so important?" I teased.

Phil smiled. "Could be."

At that moment, Dad called Phil off. He walked toward the table and his spot was taken by Fred a moment later. "If you wanted to make him disinterested in you, that was not the way to go about it," Fred said.

Shit... "Who asked you?" I snapped.

Fred grinned. "Just being helpful."

Dad called out to everyone else, pulling us back to the table. No one looked tired anymore. Except for poor Mr. Weasley. But even he looked interested in the newest addition. "Everyone, this is Phil Troy. One of the Irish Chasers. We used to see each other on the pitch from time to time. One of the youngest players in the league," Dad explained.

"Hello," everyone called out.

"Nice to meet you all," Phil said.

It didn't take long for Mr. Weasley and Dad to invite Phil to sit for a cup of tea and chat. Nearly everyone was thrilled to not have to go to bed yet. Although Ginny looked like she would have loved to just go to sleep. For a while, we all sat around the table and had a long conversation about the game and all of the plays throughout. I was likely one of the loudest people in that conversation. Each time Dad or Phil would explain a new move I could try, I got even more excited to get back to Hogwarts.

As we all woke up (it was just past midnight) from our previously drowsy states, we all chatted back and forth with each other more and more excitedly. Phil never even seemed to notice that he had kind of woken us up. Phil ended up spending much of the night sitting at my side and talking to me about how his own career had started. It was needless to say that I was absolutely fascinated by his life. I loved hearing about how someone so young had become a professional. He seemed more than willing to talk to me about it.

The conversation flowed effortlessly and no one interrupted us. I was kind of surprised to see Dad letting me have a conversation with a boy who had been clearly flirting with me earlier. But he didn't seem even moderately concerned with our conversation. I ended up telling Phil a little bit about the Gryffindor Quidditch Team at Hogwarts when I got up to do the dishes and he offered to join me, leaving us mostly alone. He had gotten quite the laugh out of the story of how I had gotten on my team.

We had been washing the dishes in silence for a little while when Phil spoke again. "You were saying that you're an alternate on your House Team at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah. I'll be a regular next season," I told him.

"You ever played on a regulation pitch before?"

"Yeah. My dad's brought me back to the Stars Pitch a few times to let me fly around on it."

"Nothing beats it."

"Absolutely. There's something about being up there. It's magical," I said dreamily. As Phil smiled at me, I realized just how stupid I must have just sounded. "I know that's a stupid way to put it."

Phil waved me off. "No, it isn't. I understand what you mean."

We stood in silence for a moment. "You've been homeschooled your whole life then? Never been to school?" I asked curiously.

"Missed out on that much I'm afraid."

"Do you ever wish you had gone?"

"Sometimes," Phil admitted. I let out a sad breath of air. That could have made for a depressing childhood. "But I'm grateful that I got this opportunity. Get to meet a lot of interesting people."

"I'll bet," I said.

"Might I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Phil turned over toward the table, where mostly everyone else was still sitting. "The redhead over there -"

"Which one?" I interrupted teasingly.

We both laughed as Phil pulled me over toward him and motioned toward the table. "One of the twins," Phil said. I nodded. They weren't looking in our direction anymore. "One of them doesn't seem to like me very much." Of course... "Were they supporting Bulgaria?"

"That's Fred and George. Don't take them too seriously," I said, waving Phil off. "They don't really like anyone who -"

"Who?" Phil asked.

My voice dropped off as my face paled. I had realized almost too late what I was about to say. I couldn't just blatantly tell him that I knew he was flirting with me. "Don't worry about it. They're weird," I said awkwardly.

Phil sensed my hesitation and changed the subject. "Will you be back at Hogwarts this year?"

"Yeah. Term starts September 1st."

"Perhaps I'll see you."

That baffled me. "At Hogwarts?"

Wasn't he done with school since he had been homeschooled? "Yes. My younger sister is in her Sixth Year at Beauxbatons. My family preferred her to go there rather than Hogwarts, despite her protests," Phil explained.

"What does her being at Beauxbatons have anything to do with -?"

"Phil!" Dad interrupted me, running in between the two of us. He pushed me back a step and I stared at him blankly. "We haven't actually been telling anyone about that just yet."

"Oh," Phil said, looking a little embarrassed. "My deepest apologies. I wouldn't have been able to keep my mouth shut."

"We can see that," Dad teased.

They both laughed, but I was beyond confused. "What are you two talking about?" I huffed.

"You'll see soon enough," Dad said.

"That's not fair," I snapped.

It didn't make any sense. I didn't understand what Phil's younger sister, who was in Beauxbatons, had anything to do with him possibly visiting Hogwarts. The two schools were in different countries. Dad and Phil laughed at my annoyance as I huffed and walked off. I had always hated being kept out of the loop about things. Dad and Phil laughed at me as I walked off and headed over towards Mom. She smiled at me as I walked off. Maybe there was a chance that I could get her to tell me what was going on.

"Mom!" I barked. "What's going on at Hogwarts this year?"

"You'll see soon enough darling. It's only two weeks," Mom said sweetly.

"That's not fair!" I huffed.

"Relax, darling," Mom said, patting my hand. I was still annoyed but managed to calm down with some more tea. Mom was watching me closely the entire time. "Phil Troy seems to have taken to you."

My face burned with embarrassment. "He just knows Dad. He's being friendly," I mumbled.

Phil Troy didn't care about me in the slightest. He was just being nice to me because of Dad. "You have a big head about a lot of things. You got that from your father," Mom said, making us both laugh. "But you also need to realize that you are a very pretty girl, Tara. Cedric Diggory notices. Phil Troy notices. And I promise you that a few other boys have noticed."

My face burned stupidly. I hadn't really ever thought of someone else liking me. "Doesn't matter. I like Cedric," I muttered.

"Good for you. I like him too," Mom said. "He's around right now, isn't he?"

"Somewhere," I said carelessly.

"Uh-huh," she hummed.

Had to get that habit of sneaking around from somewhere... "Speaking of, what time is it?" I asked her.

Mom glanced down at her Muggle watch. "A few minutes to midnight."

"Thanks," I said, hopping up from my seat at the table. "Hey!" Dad turned to me. "We're running kind of low on water. I think I'm going to head out and get some."

"That's a good idea, Tara," Dad said.

"Bring two pales, will you?" Mom asked.

"Sure."

Gathering two of the water pales from the kitchen, I headed back toward the flap of the tent. Mom met me just before I could leave. "Don't forget to actually get the water," she warned quietly.

Damn it. "What are you talking about? That's what I'm doing," I said.

"Have fun," Mom laughed.

"Always," I giggled.

"I can escort you if you'd like?" Phil offered, standing from the table.

Definitely wasn't betting on that one... "Well," I mumbled, "I -"

"That would be wonderful, actually. It's late and dark out there," Dad said happily.

No! That was not the way this night was supposed to go. "There are a hundred thousand people out there. I think I can manage to not get killed," I teased, trying to keep a teasing face.

"I was planning on heading out soon anyway. I don't mind walking with you," Phil offered.

"There a problem?" Dad asked suspiciously.

"Uh… no. No problem at all," I said. I would figure things out later. "Come on."

Phil motioned for me to head out of the flap. "After you."

"Thanks," I said, heading out of the tent. Phil took one of the pales as we headed out into the throng of people who were still celebrating Ireland's win. "You staying here for the night?"

Phil nodded, motioning back toward where the stadium was. "The players have a campsite on the other side of the stadium. We're all staying there for the night before heading back home. We have a few months off before the new season starts," Phil explained.

"Will you still be training?" I asked curiously.

"Of course."

"You'll have a hell of a season to live up to."

"That we do."

At some point, I was going to have to get away from him, but I figured that I could be nice for a little while. "Some days I really wish I could become a professional player. Follow in Dad's footsteps," I said. Phil smiled. "But other days I want to do something like an Auror."

"You can be whatever it is you'd like. You seem skilled enough to do either. You have time to think about it," Phil said.

"When did you know you wanted to be a Quidditch player?" I asked curiously.

"Oh, I knew from when I was a young child that this was all I wanted to do."

"Hmm…"

We walked in silence for a little while before Phil spoke again. "Your father tells me you have quite the penchant for breaking the rules."

A little grin turned up on the edges of my lips. That was the understatement of the year. "It's always for a good cause," I pointed out.

"I would love to hear those stories one day," Phil said, grinning.

"Um," I mumbled. Backpedal, Tara. "Maybe if you're ever around Surrey."

Was I making things worse? "That would be nice. Your father actually invited us to stop by one day," Phil told me. Of course, he did... "Perhaps you can tell me all about your wonderful stories."

"I'll actually be at -"

"Tara?"

The familiar voice made both of us whip around. A shot of relief went through me at the sight of Cedric. I grinned, meeting him halfway. "Cedric!" I chirped happily, wrapping him in a hug. "There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Sorry. Got held up at the counter. Someone insisting that I buy their -" Cedric broke off, realizing that I was giggling at him. "Doesn't matter, I suppose."

"Now you've got me curious," I teased. I was kind of curious now. Cedric grinned down at me before stepping back and realizing that I hadn't been alone. His face dropped slightly when he saw that it was Phil. I awkwardly stepped between them. "Oh, uh, Cedric, this is Phil Troy. Chaser for Ireland."

"Well played. Congratulations," Cedric said, shaking Phil's hand.

"Thank you," Phil said.

It didn't take me long to notice that Cedric had taken a somewhat tense stance. It was easy to pick out when he was normally so relaxed around everyone. There was no doubt in my mind that he really didn't like Phil. I could only assume that it was because Phil was obviously flirting with me right after the end of the game. He must not have liked the idea of the two of us being together. He obviously didn't know that I hadn't wanted this. I tried to figure out something to say to them but I couldn't figure out for the life of me what would have been acceptable.

"Shall we move on and get the water?" Phil offered, sensing how awkward things had gotten. "I doubt your parents will be happy if I keep you too long."

"Umm…" I muttered dumbly.

"I can escort her back," Cedric said, pulling an arm around my shoulders. "Thank you."

Phil finally smiled. "Oh, I see. This is the boyfriend, isn't it?"

"Yes," I said guiltily.

Had I accidentally been leading him on? Phil smiled again. "That makes sense. That's nice," he said. Maybe he wasn't bitter about things. "How long have you two been together?"

"Uh… a while," I answered stupidly.

I didn't even know our anniversary date. "About ten months, I think," Cedric answered for me. "There really wasn't an official date."

"Sweet. It genuinely is," Phil said. I could tell that he was being honest. He then turned to Cedric. "In that case, I'm sorry about earlier."

My eyebrow shot up. I was honestly shocked that Phil was apologizing to Cedric for having flirted with me when he hadn't even known that we were dating. "No apology necessary. I'm sure you didn't know," Cedric said, waving his worry off.

"No, I didn't," Phil said.

"Sorry. It seemed like a weird thing just to blurt out to someone you just met," I said.

"It would have been," Phil agreed, laughing. "No hard feelings then?"

"None at all," Cedric said. "Well-played game."

"Thank you," Phil said.

As Phil prepared to leave, I stepped in front of him. I didn't want him to feel like this had been a complete waste of time for him. "It really was nice to meet you. If you're still willing, I would love to talk about how you fell into playing in the professional league so young. I think I'd love to do it but I don't want to use Dad's name to get me there. I want it to be on skill," I explained.

"That's a noble feeling you have," Phil said, smiling at me. "Send me an owl if you ever want to talk about it. They’ll find me."

"Okay," I said.

"And I have a feeling we may all be seeing each other sooner than expected," Phil added, smiling mysteriously.

"More of that damned mystery," I teased.

Phil laughed. "Goodnight, Tara. Cedric."

"Night, Phil. See you around, I guess," I said.

"Good to meet you," Cedric said.

The three of us moved forward and shook hands with each other. Phil gave me a quick hug before heading off. He had actually been quite nice to me today. Although I did realize after he had left that I should have asked him not to mention my meeting with Cedric to Dad. Oh well... I would figure things out later. It wasn't long before the crowd noticed who Phil was and surrounded him excitedly. I laughed. He would be just fine without me. I turned back to Cedric, who was watching the entire thing bemusedly.

"At least you found me," I teased Cedric, turning back to him.

"Almost thought I wouldn't, considering the crowds," Cedric said.

There were so many people around us, we almost had to shout to hear each other. "Maybe we should try heading somewhere a little quieter," I offered.

"Works for me," Cedric said.

As we walked off, I glanced up at Cedric. "You're not mad?" I asked curiously.

"That someone else has noticed you're pretty?" Cedric asked. I merely stared at him. He smiled at me. "Not particularly. I expected it would only be a matter of time. Phil Troy doesn't know you and he certainly doesn't know me. Nothing to be angry about."

For some reason, I flashed back to earlier in the evening when we had been entering the stadium. Fred had told me that I was pretty and that was the reason that Phil Troy was speaking to me. Even Mom had mentioned that I was big-headed about everything other than the way I looked. She, too, agreed that I was pretty and other people were starting to notice it. How long ago had Cedric noticed my appearance? How many other people had noticed? Was this a recent event? Cedric must have noticed my confusion.

"You're surprised that people have noticed you're pretty?" Cedric asked.

"Guess I never thought about it," I said dumbly.

"You are, Tara. I'm not the first person to notice and I'm certainly not the last," Cedric said, laughing.

"Well I somehow doubt that I'll ever see Phil Troy again, so I wouldn't worry about that," I told him.

Cedric laughed again. "That's not who I was talking about."

My head snapped over to him. "What? Who are you talking about?" I asked, completely lost.

Cedric met my eyes, looking dumbfounded. "You're joking."

"No."

"You're adorable, Tara. You really are," Cedric said, throwing an arm over my shoulders. I let out a puff of breath in annoyance. "I guess you need someone to blatantly say it."

"Yes, I do, but who are you talking about?" I asked.

Cedric shook his head. "Don't worry about it, I'm sure it'll come out eventually."

"You're so frustrating," I snapped.

"You really want to know that badly?" Cedric asked.

As we walked, I remained silent. I thought about it for a little while. Did I really want to know who else had a crush on me? Apparently, Cedric knew, but I definitely didn't. I didn't have the slightest clue. No, I was pretty sure that I didn't want to know who it was. Because it might have ended up changing the way I looked at or interacted with someone. Either a friend or enemy or complete stranger. It could have made things awkward. I would have rather not known at all. Besides, I cared about Cedric. That was who mattered to me.

"No. I don't care," I said firmly.

"Good answer," Cedric said teasingly, making us both laugh. "Have you honestly never noticed that you were pretty?"

"Guess I never thought about it," I answered honestly. "I don't know, when it came to you, I always thought that it was my personality you were attracted to. I thought that you always thought of me like a little sister."

"For a while I did," Cedric admitted.

"When did it change?" I asked curiously.

"It was in your Second Year," Cedric said. I nodded at him. That was when I had started to get the idea that he might have liked me. "When Gilderoy Lockhart was mentioning something about you and Harry possibly being together. Up until then, you'd just been my friend. But the thought of having to see the two of you together, I think I realized that I cared."

Huh... So, it had been the idea of Harry and me possibly being together that had driven him to realize his feelings for me. I guessed there was one thing to thank Gilderoy Lockhart for. "Trust me when I tell you that you never have to worry about that," I told Cedric.

"I didn't think so. What about you? When did your feelings change?"

"Are you joking?"

"What?"

"They never changed, you dope!" I said, whacking him on the shoulder. "I had a crush on you from the moment we met in Madam Malkin's."

Cedric looked at me for a moment. Was he really that clueless? His face suddenly turned up in a grin. "Oh, I know. I just wanted to hear you say it," he teased.

"Cedric!" I gasped, embarrassed. "You knew this entire time?"

He was laughing at the bewildered look on my face. I was such a moron. "You didn't exactly hide it very well," Cedric pointed out. Yeah, he was right about that. "I only had a hunch during your First Year but you were just a kid then. I thought you'd grow out of it." There was no way that I would have ever grown out of that monstrous crush. "But… yes… I always had a feeling."

"That's mortifying," I mumbled.

"Turned out to be not such a bad thing," Cedric said.

There was absolutely no way that I would have grown out of my crush on him. I would have always needed some time to just explore our relationship and see what could have come of it. But I was still furious that he had known about my crush. I'd thought that I'd hid it better than I had. I scoffed as Cedric began laughing louder and louder. I whacked him on the stomach as he continued to laugh. My face burned a bright red. I tried to walk away from him but his hand wrapped around my wrist, pulling me back into him, where our lips instantly met in a surprisingly heated kiss.

We remained locked together, largely ignored by the mostly inebriated crowd, for a few seconds before Cedric released me, grinning down at me. "See? It all worked out," Cedric said.

"That's still embarrassing," I hissed.

"Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"Why do you have to ruin the surprise?" Cedric shot back.

"I hate surprises," I mumbled.

"Shut up," Cedric said.

"Hey!" I gasped.

There was no need to be rude... We both laughed again as Cedric wrapped an arm around my lower back and pulled me along with him. We brushed past a number of celebrating families and couples, all darting back and forth over the yard. We laughed at the sight of a few young men staggering around, trying to impress a few of who I assumed were the Bulgarian Veela. I rolled my eyes at them as Cedric tugged me toward the trees, away from the bulk of the crowds.

"I still can't believe you knew," I growled.

"You're so bitter about it," Cedric laughed.

"I never wanted you to know. That's the point of a crush. They're supposed to be secret."

"But what would have happened if I had never known? I might have never asked you out."

"There is that."

"I could have never done…"

Cedric trailed off, looking down at me. I smiled as Cedric leaned down over me and wrapped an arm around my lower back. He pulled me toward him in a loving kiss. I laughed softly as he pressed a simple and sweet kiss against my mouth. It was nice to be able to relax while kissing him again, finally not being nervous that Dad would see us. My heart raced slightly as my hands traveled up Cedric's stomach and latched onto his chest, wrapping around the edges of his shirt. I tightened my grip and pulled him back a few steps into the darker parts of the woods.

The corners of his lips turned up against mine in a smile, likely at my rather bold actions. But if this was one of the only moments we would get until we were back at Hogwarts - under the watchful eyes of the teachers - I would enjoy it. I could feel his hands slip underneath my Ireland shirt to rest in the dip of the small of my back. My breath came out in a slight pant as he flattened his hands against my spine. His right hand dropped after a moment to rest against the back of my thigh. He walked up against me, pushing me back into the tree almost roughly. I grunted my approval.

My heart was racing in my chest. This was definitely one of the more heated moments we'd had. That wasn't even to mention how things became more and more heated. My heart was hammering against my ribs almost painfully. But the moment was too exciting to stop. I giggled softly as Cedric left my mouth for a moment. Much to my surprise, his mouth dropped over my cheeks and trailed down over my throat. My hands dropped off of his shirt against their own will. I was about to close my eyes when I noticed something.

"Whoa," I gasped, pushing Cedric back. He stared at me in surprise. "The Irish look like they're having a seriously good time over there."

There were screams and bangs echoing from all over the camp. Cedric turned back to see what was going on. His head tilted to the side. "Does that seem a little… manic to you?" he asked me slowly.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Maybe we should head back," Cedric said, grabbing my arm and pulling me away.

"They're heading toward our tent," I said.

"Come on. Your parents will see them coming."

"Harry… He's still there. They're all still there."

"Tara, we need to go," Cedric said. But I couldn't leave my friends and family in the middle of danger. Knowing that it was a stupid move, I darted off. "I meant the other way! Run away from the fight, not toward it."

"All of my friends are over there. You go. I'll meet you in the woods," I told him.

"Nice try," Cedric said, wrapping an arm around my wrist. "We're going together. Come on."

If he wasn't going to let me go alone, I would just have to bring him with me. By the light of the few fires that were still burning at the campsite, I could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward us; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene. I gasped softly, almost halting in my spot.

"Are those..." I trailed off.

"Death Eaters..." Cedric muttered.

"Oh..."

A crowd of the Death Eaters, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across the field. I squinted at them. They didn't seem to have faces. Then I realized that their heads were hooded and their faces masked. High above them, floating along in midair, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the Death Eaters on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air. Two of the figures were very small.

What the hell was going on out there? What were they doing to those people? Cedric pulled me along the crowd, just barely staying out of sight of the Death Eaters. More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice I saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder. People banged into me as they ran in every direction, desperate to get out of sight of the Death Eaters.

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as we passed over a burning tent and I recognized one of them: Mr. Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three looked as though they might be his wife and children. One of the marchers below flipped Mrs. Roberts upside down with his wand; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee. I nearly halted in my spot when I saw that. They weren't people. They were monsters.

"Those are the Muggles from our campsite!" I told Cedric, running toward them.

All of a sudden, I didn't care about the Death Eaters. I just cared about those helpless people. "Don't go toward them!" Cedric yelled, just barely grabbing me in time. I turned back to him. "Everyone will be heading away from them. All of your friends will be somewhere else. It's likely that our parents will be heading out there."

"That's sick," I muttered, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side. "That is really sick..."

"That's who they are," Cedric said.

"They need help," I gasped.

"Trust me, Tara. Someone's going to help them."

"Assholes."

"They're monsters. Come on," Cedric said, pulling me with him.

The last thing I wanted was to leave those Muggles strung up there, but I knew in the back of my mind that I couldn't fight all of the Death Eaters. I was nowhere near powerful enough. Everyone was already sprinting away toward the oncoming marchers. I was halted dead in my spot, unsure of where we were supposed to go. I could see that Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction toward the source of the trouble. My parents must have been somewhere in there. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer.

"Where should we go?" I asked Cedric desperately.

"The woods. Let's try and get some cover," Cedric said.

"Where do you think your father is?" I asked, suddenly remembering that he had family here, too.

"Probably over there," Cedric said, pointing to the Death Eaters.

Cedric tightened his grip on me and tugged me after him again. We both looked back as we reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was larger than ever; I could see the Ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the center, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Roberts family fall. If the family fell there was a good chance that they would die. They were incredibly high up in the air.

The colored lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium had been extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees; children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices were reverberating around them in the cold night air. I looked back and forth, desperately trying to find any of my family or friends. Where was everyone? As we tried to get deeper into the woods, I felt myself being pushed hither and thither by people whose faces I could not see.

Suddenly I noticed one of the hooded figures pulling off to the side of their group. My eyebrow arched. What the hell were they doing? Why weren't they with the rest of their friends? I merely stared at them for a moment. But in that one moment, I found myself getting torn away from Cedric by one of the running wizards. I shouted for Cedric but my voice was lost in the shrieking crowd. It took me a few moments but I finally pulled myself out of the crowd. I stumbled back a few steps, somehow getting further and further from the crowd.

I'd thought that I might have been able to spot Cedric from a distance, but instead, I had managed to find myself locked in a staring contest with one of the hooded figures. My hand dropped to my wand, but I wasn't fast enough. The Death Eater launched a spell at me that I couldn't quite hear. But I felt it hit me. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that I no longer knew where I was. White-hot knives were piercing every inch of my skin, my head was surely going to burst with pain; I was screaming more loudly than I'd ever screamed in my life.

There was a vague sound of someone coming near me. "Expelliarmus!" There was a shout of pain and the sound of a scuffle. A few seconds later, I could feel someone pressing against my face. "Tara! Tara! Are you all right?"

"Shit..." I gasped, leaning up and meeting eyes with Cedric. "Oh, that hurt..."

Most of the pain had faded, but there was still a lasting burning feeling. "You're alright. Come on. You're alright," Cedric said, trying to drag me back to my feet.

"What the hell was that?" I asked.

"A spell. I'm not exactly sure what happened or which one they used," Cedric said. "But it was cruel. Come on."

"Who did it?" I asked breathlessly.

"I don't know. I hit them and they vanished," Cedric said.

"Why did you cast a spell at them? You're underage," I said.

Cedric stared at me as if I had just lost my mind. "You honestly think that's what was on my mind when I saw you on the ground, writhing in pain?" Cedric asked me. I merely stared at him. I was concerned about him using underage wizardry... "Don't be nuts, Tara. I don't care about underage wizardry. I just care about you. How are you feeling?"

"Tired but better," I said.

"Come on. Let's get to the woods," Cedric said.

As we both rose to our feet and walked off, I glanced around, desperate to know where the Death Eater that had attacked me had gone. But there was no sign of him anymore. Cedric must have scared the man off. He wrapped an arm around my back, trying to keep me upright, as we walked off. Cedric kept his wand up and at the ready, just in case someone else tries to find us. We were walking deeper into the woods, both breathing heavily, debating on if we should try somewhere else. Then I heard someone I was sure was Ron yell with pain.

"That's Ron," I gasped.

Had one of the Death Eaters found him? "How do you know?" Cedric asked.

"I've heard him scream before," I answered. "Ron!"

"Tara!" Ron screamed.

"Tara!" Harry and Hermione's voices chimed in after a moment.

"Over here! Harry, Ron, Hermione; over here!" I shouted.

"Are you alone?" Harry's voice called, slowly coming closer.

"Cedric is with me!"

"Follow our voices!" Cedric yelled.

"Call out again!" Harry called.

"Over here!" I shouted.

"What happened?" Hermione asked anxiously. "Ron, Tara, where are you? Oh, this is stupid - lumos!"

Her wand lit the path and I smiled at her, glad to see that they looked quite tired but otherwise unharmed. Hermione and Harry darted up to me. Ron was lying sprawled on the ground. "Tara... What happened to you? You're bloody," Hermione said.

Was I? I brushed off my forehead and blood spread all over my hand. "Someone hit me with a spell. Cedric attacked them. I'm fine. A little sore and still in some pain but I'm feeling better," I explained.

"What spell?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know," I answered.

Harry grabbed me around the waist, pulling me into him. "Thank you," he told Cedric.

"Of course," Cedric answered.

"Come here," Harry told Ron.

I pulled out of Harry's grasp to allow him to help Ron back to his feet. "Ron, what happened?" I asked him.

"Tripped over a tree root," he said angrily, getting to his feet again.

"Well, with feet that size, hard not to," a drawling voice from behind us said.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I turned sharply. Cedric raised his wand, ready to curse a potential attacker. Draco Malfoy was standing alone nearby, leaning against a tree, looking utterly relaxed. My blood boiled. Was it his father who had just attacked me? His arms folded, he seemed to have been watching the scene at the campsite through a gap in the trees. Ron then told Malfoy to do something that I knew he would never have dared say in front of Mrs. Weasley - the same thing I had told him last year.

"Language, Weasley," Malfoy teased, his pale eyes glittering. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like her spotted, would you?"

Malfoy nodded at Hermione, and at the same moment, a blast like a bomb sounded from the campsite, and a flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around us. We all gasped slightly, turning around to see what was happening. I could vaguely hear the Death Eaters chanting something in what I assumed was Latin. There were still screams and bangs echoing from all over the campsite. Fires still appeared to be raging as the Ministry workers tried to end the fight.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked Malfoy defiantly.

"Granger, they're after Muggles. D'you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around... they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh," Malfoy told her.

"Hermione's a witch," Harry snarled.

"Have it your own way, Potter," Malfoy said, grinning maliciously. "If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are."

"You watch your mouth!" Ron shouted.

Everybody present knew that 'Mudblood' was a very offensive term for a witch or wizard of Muggle parentage. I noticed Cedric take a slightly protective stance in front of Hermione, almost shielding her from Malfoy's view. Malfoy's gaze looked over the rest of us. His eyes briefly flitted over Ron and Harry before coming to a rest on me. They briefly flickered onto Cedric - giving him a sharp glare - before shifting back to me. They seemed to be firmly focused on the blood trail going across my forehead.

"You look a little relaxed, Malfoy," I sneered.

"I've got nothing to worry about. Neither do you," Malfoy replied.

"Not even for a blood traitor?" I asked.

His eyes traveled up across the cut on my forehead again as his lips formed a smirk. "On second thought, maybe you do have something to worry about," he said.

"Never mind, Ron, Tara," Hermione said quickly.

She reached over and seized Ron's arm to restrain him as he took a step toward Malfoy. Cedric had an arm wrapped back around my waist as I stared at Malfoy. Partially to keep me from attacking him and partially to keep me upright. My head was still spinning from the Death Eater attack slightly. Suddenly there came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything I had heard so far. Several people nearby screamed. I jumped slightly. Malfoy chuckled softly.

"Scare easily, don't they? I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What's he up to - trying to rescue the Muggles?" Malfoy asked us lazily.

My temper was rising at his taunts. "Where are your parents? Out there wearing masks, are they?" Harry asked Malfoy.

Malfoy turned his face to Harry, still smiling. "Well... if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?"

"We all know they are. Might as well admit it," I hissed disgustedly.

They had been back in the day and likely still were. Malfoy opened his mouth to say something back to me when he was cut off. "Oh come on, let's go and find the others," Hermione said, throwing a disgusted look at Malfoy.

"Keep that big bushy head down, Granger," Malfoy sneered.

"Asshole," I snapped.

"Come on," Hermione repeated, and she pulled Harry, Ron, and me up the path again.

Cedric followed us closely. "Where are the others?" I asked, finally noticing that Fred, George, and Ginny were missing.

As were the rest of the Weasley's and my own parents. But I had assumed that the adults had taken off to try and fight the Death Eaters. "Fred and George took Ginny and headed off," Ron explained. I sucked in a breath. Had they made it to safety? "Everyone else was heading for the Roberts' to try and save them from the people in masks. Did you see them?"

"Yeah. We did," I answered.

"I'll bet you anything his dad is one of that masked lot!" Ron said hotly.

Of course, he was talking about Malfoy again. Ron likely hated Malfoy more than any of the rest of us did. "Of course he is! He was a Death Eater back in the day!" I shouted back.

"A what?" Ron asked.

"They were -"

"Later, Cedric," I interrupted.

It would take Ron forever to figure out what we were talking about. "Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch him!" Hermione said fervently. "Oh, I can't believe this. Where have the others got to?"

Fred, George, and Ginny were nowhere to be seen, though the path was packed with plenty of other people, all looking nervously over their shoulders toward the commotion back at the campsite. Ron mentioned to us that they had lost the others not long after they had headed toward the woods. I could only hope that they were safe and far from here. A huddle of teenagers in pajamas was arguing vociferously a little way along the path. When they saw Harry, Ron, Hermione, Cedric, and me, a girl with thick curly hair turned and ran up to us.

"Oü est Madame Maxime?" she asked. "Nous l'avons perdue -"

"Er - what?" Ron asked.

"We're not from Beauxbatons. Hogwarts," I explained to the girls, motioning down our line.

"Oh..." The girl who had spoken turned her back on us, and as they walked on I distinctly heard her say, "Ogwarts."

Didn't I just say that? I rolled my eyes. "Beauxbatons," Hermione muttered.

"Sorry?" Harry asked.

"They must go to Beauxbatons. You know... Beauxbatons Academy of Magic..." Hermione said. The boys stared at her blankly. "I read about it in An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe."

"Oh... yeah... right," Harry said.

They were such morons. They knew that there were other wizarding schools! "It's in France. Another magical school. I guess Madam Maxine is the headmistress," I explained.

"Fred and George can't have gone that far," Ron said, pulling out his wand, lighting it like Hermione's, and squinting up the path.

"Lumos," I said, lighting my own wand. Cedric followed suit a moment later.

Harry dug in the pockets of his jacket for his own wand - but it didn't seem to be there. The only thing he pulled out was his Omnioculars. "Ah, no, I don't believe it... I've lost my wand!" Harry barked.

"You're kidding!" Ron gasped.

"What?" I hissed.

Of all of the times he could have lost something, it had to be right now and it had to be his wand. He was a complete and utter moron. If I wasn't already concerned about underage wizardry, I would have hexed him for being such an idiot. Ron, Hermione, Cedric, and I raised our wands high enough to spread the narrow beams of light farther on the ground. I could only hope that it was around here somewhere. We needed everyone to be armed just in case. Harry looked all around us, but his wand was nowhere to be seen.

"Maybe it's back in the tent," Ron said.

"Maybe it fell out of your pocket when we were running?" Hermione suggested anxiously.

"Yeah, maybe..." Harry said.

But we all knew that it hadn't fallen out. Witches and wizards were notoriously secure when it came to knowing where they had put their wands. I was sure that my wand had only been out of my possession once - in Second Year when Tom Riddle had briefly snatched it. Harry usually kept his wand with him at all times in the Wizarding World, and finding yourself without a wand in the midst of a scene like this was enough to make any witch or wizard feel very vulnerable.

"Where are my parents?" I asked suddenly, remembering that they weren't with us.

"They went off with the Ministry wizards to help," Harry explained.

At least I knew that they were surrounded by other people. They were all going to be out there protecting each other. Cedric wrapped a hand around my wrist, clearly sensing my nerves. A rustling noise nearby made all five of us jump. I whipped back around to see that Winky the house-elf was fighting her way out of a clump of bushes nearby. She was moving in a most peculiar fashion, apparently with great difficulty; it was as though someone invisible was trying to hold her back. I arched a brow. What was that about?

"There is bad wizards about!" Winky squeaked distractedly as she leaned forward and labored to keep running. "People high - high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!"

And she disappeared into the trees on the other side of the path, panting and squeaking as she fought the force that was restraining her. "What's up with her?" Ron asked, looking curiously after Winky. "Why can't she run properly?"

"Bet she didn't ask permission to hide," Harry said.

That made perfect sense. House-elf's new how much trouble they would get in for blatantly ignoring orders from their masters. But Winky didn't exactly seem like she had an understanding master. Mr. Crouch had never seemed very understanding. Hadn't he forced her to go up to the Top Box without caring about her fear of heights? I was thinking of Dobby: Every time he had tried to do something the Malfoy's wouldn't like, the house-elf had been forced to start beating himself up.

"You know, house-elves get a very raw deal! It's slavery, that's what it is! That Mr. Crouch made her go up to the top of the stadium, and she was terrified, and he's got her bewitched so she can't even run when they start trampling tents!" Hermione cried indignantly. Cedric gave me a glance and I nodded at him. That was just the way that she was. "Why doesn't anyone do something about it?"

"Well, the elves are happy, aren't they? You heard old Winky back at the match... 'House-elves is not supposed to have fun'... that's what she likes, being bossed around..." Ron said.

"It's people like you, Ron," Hermione began hotly, "who prop up rotten and unjust systems, just because they're too lazy to -"

"Is this seriously the time to be having this argument?" I interrupted them angrily.

Another loud bang echoed from the edge of the wood. "Let's just keep moving, shall we?" Ron offered, and I saw him glance edgily at Hermione.

Perhaps there was truth in what Malfoy had said; perhaps Hermione was in more danger than we were. No matter what, Ron and myself were from old Pureblooded families. We were likely in very little danger. Didn't Voldemort want to preserve magical blood, no matter who they were? Harry and Cedric were Half-Blood's. Harry was only in danger because of his name. But in the darkness, it would have been hard to make him out. Would they know that Hermione was a Muggle-Born? We set off again, Harry still searching his pockets, even though we all knew his wand wasn't there.

We followed the dark path deeper into the wood, still keeping an eye out for Fred, George, and Ginny. We passed a group of goblins who were cackling over a sack of gold that they had undoubtedly won betting on the match, and who seemed quite unperturbed by the trouble at the campsite. Further still along the path, we walked into a patch of silvery light, and when we looked through the trees, we saw three tall and beautiful Veela standing in a clearing, surrounded by a gaggle of young wizards, all of whom were talking very loudly.

Did they not realize that a Death Eater attack was happening just yards away? "I pull down about a hundred sacks of Galleons a year! I'm a dragon killer for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures," one of them shouted.

"No, you're not!" his friend yelled. "You're a dishwasher at the Leaky Cauldron... but I'm a vampire hunter, I've killed about ninety so far -"

A third young wizard, whose pimples were visible even by the dim, silvery light of the Veela, now cut in, "I'm about to become the youngest ever Minister of Magic, I am."

Harry and I snorted with laughter. The others were merely staring at us. We both recognized the pimply wizard: His name was Stan Shunpike, and he was, in fact, a conductor on the triple-decker Knight Bus. We had met him when we were on our way to the Leaky Cauldron last year at the end of summer when Harry had blown up his Aunt Marge. Stan was sweet if not a little clueless. Certainly not the next Minister of Magic. I turned to tell Cedric that, but Ron's voice distracted me.

His face had gone oddly slack, and next second Ron was yelling, "Did I tell you I've invented a broomstick that'll reach Jupiter?"

"Oh, shut up!" I barked.

"Honestly!" Hermione hissed, and she and Harry grabbed Ron firmly by the arms, wheeled him around, and marched him away.

Cedric was laughing quietly as I reached for his hand and pulled him with me. By the time the sounds of the Veela and their admirers had faded completely, we were in the very heart of the wood. I wondered how the Veela weren't even slightly worried about running into the woods. Did they think their beauty would keep the Death Eaters away? We seemed to be alone now; everything was much quieter. I looked around. As all began looking around for a sign of what to do, I glanced at Cedric. Something had occurred to me.

"Did those girls not affect you?" I asked him quietly.

"The Veela?" Cedric asked.

"Yeah."

Cedric merely stared at me for a moment before shaking his head. "Don't think so," he answered. "I mean, like everyone else I felt something when the Veela started to sing and dance. But I don't feel the need to dive off the stadium balcony to try and impress them." I smiled brilliantly. How is he even a real person? Cedric grinned down at me. "I have someone else to impress."

"You just did," I told him honestly. "You're a good man, Cedric Diggory."

"You're worth it, Tara Nox."

"I think you want something," I teased.

Cedric chuckled softly, pulling me into him and brushing some blood off my forehead. "You were just hit by some terrible spell. The only thing I want right now is for you to be okay."

"I'll feel better once I've found my parents," I said.

"They'll be okay, Tara. They're probably out with the Weasley's and maybe my father."

My eyes widened. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't even think about him," I gasped.

I'd completely forgotten that Cedric's father was likely out there fighting the Death Eaters too. "That's alright. I think you've had a few more things to be concerned about," Cedric said, obviously referencing the Death Eater attack. "He'll be okay. I'm sure he's with everyone else."

"I reckon we can just wait here, you know. We'll hear anyone coming a mile off," Harry suggested.

Everyone was already nodding their agreement. The words were hardly out of his mouth when Ludo Bagman emerged from behind a tree right ahead of us. I whipped back around in surprise. Even by the feeble light of the four wands, I could see that a great change had come over Bagman. He no longer looked buoyant and rosy-faced; there was no more spring in his step. He looked very white and strained. What had happened to him? Was it from the attack? Why was he not helping the Roberts' or the rest of the Ministry wizards?

"Who's that?" Bagman asked, blinking down at us, trying to make out our faces. "What are you doing in here, all alone?"

We all looked at one another, surprised. He didn't know what was going on... "Ludo, you haven't seen the attack?" Cedric asked him quietly.

He looked bewildered. "Well - there's a sort of riot going on," Ron said.

Bagman stared at him. "What?"

"At the campsite... some people have got hold of a family of Muggles..."

Bagman swore loudly. "Damn them!" he said, looking quite distracted, and without another word, he Disapparated with a small pop.

"Not exactly on top of things, Mr. Bagman, is he?" Hermione said, frowning.

There was no doubt that Bagman was a good personality, but was absolutely clueless about everything having to do with the Ministry. "He was a great Beater, though," Ron said, leading the way off the path into a small clearing, and sitting down on a patch of dry grass at the foot of a tree.

"No, he was on a terrible team," I said.

"The Wimbourne Wasps won the league three times in a row while he was with them," Ron snapped back.

"But they never got to the Quidditch World Cup," I put in.

"So they're not as good as the Stars. Or Ireland," Ron huffed. "We all know how much you like Ireland."

Everyone laughed. I rolled my eyes. Cedric leaned into me and wrapped an arm over my shoulder. "Who can blame him, really?"

"Just remember that I liked you first. I still like you," I told him, giving him a slight hug.

Ron threw a small rock at me that I ignored. They were never going to get over my relationship with him. In the meantime, Ron took his small figure of Krum out of his pocket, set it down on the ground, and watched it walk around. Like the real Krum, the model was slightly duck-footed and round-shouldered, much less impressive on his splayed feet than on his broomstick. I was listening for noise from the campsite. Everything seemed much quieter; perhaps the riot was over. Or maybe we had gotten too far away to hear anything.

"I hope the others are okay," Hermione said after a while.

"They'll be fine," Ron said.

"There's gonna be a lot of people out there all looking out for each other," I added.

"Imagine if your dad catches Lucius Malfoy," Harry said, sitting down next to Ron and watching the small figure of Krum slouching over the fallen leaves. Cedric took a seat on the grass with me, opposite them. "He's always said he'd like to get something on him."

"That'd wipe the smirk off old Draco's face, all right," Ron said.

"Lucius Malfoy's got way too many strings to pull in the Ministry. It's not good enough for him just to get caught. Something truly terrible would have to happen with him in the center of it," I said.

"This isn't terrible, is it?" Cedric asked me.

Not compared to what Lucius Malfoy would really have to do to get himself in trouble. "Just a touch," I said, looking over my shoulder worriedly. "Think they'll be okay?"

"Everyone's gonna be okay," Cedric said.

That was all I had to keep telling myself. Everyone was going to be okay. My parents, the rest of the Weasley's, and all of my other friends who had been at the Quidditch World Cup. I reached over and locked hands with Cedric as we all sat together, wands at the ready in our laps. After a while, I leaned over and pressed my head down against Cedric's shoulder. Now I was tired. I'd been anticipating being asleep by now. Instead, we sat in silence, waiting for any word that the attack was over.

"Those poor Muggles, though. What if they can't get them down?" Hermione asked nervously.

"They will. They'll find a way," Ron said reassuringly.

"Mad, though, to do something like that when the whole Ministry of Magic's out here tonight! I mean, how do they expect to get away with it?" Hermione asked curiously. "Do you think they've been drinking, or are they just -"

But she broke off abruptly and looked over her shoulder. Harry and Ron looked quickly around too. I followed their gaze. For a moment I didn't see it. That was when I realized that there wasn't anything to see. Instead, there was a sound that I could barely make out over the deafening silence. It sounded as though someone was staggering toward our clearing. I tensed up slightly. We waited, listening to the sounds of the uneven steps behind the dark trees. But the footsteps came to a sudden halt.

"Hello?" Harry called.

There was silence. It was the only answer we got. I got to my feet to see if I could figure out what was going on. Cedric followed a moment later. He raised his wand but the faint light from his wand barely showed the shadows of the tree. Harry then got to his feet and peered around the tree. It was too dark to see very far, even with the light coming from our wands, but I could sense somebody standing just beyond the range of my vision. Someone was here. Was it one of the Death Eaters or someone too scared to try and find safety?

"Who's there?" Harry asked.

I was about to yell at Harry for asking such a stupid question. When had anyone ever answered that question before? That was usually a sign to stay silent. For a split second, I saw the shadow of a man. He had a mop of dark hair but that was all I saw before he vanished. And then, without warning, the silence was rent by a voice unlike any we had heard in the wood; and it uttered, not a panicked shout, but what sounded like a spell.

"MORSMORDRE!"

Immediately I jumped back. I had already been hit by one spell today from one of the Death Eaters. I wasn't overly fond of getting hit by another one. Cedric threw me back behind him, obviously thinking the same thing I was. The last one had hurt me badly enough. From the spell, something vast, green, and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness my eyes had been struggling to penetrate; it flew up over the treetops and into the sky. I stepped back to try and see what had just happened.

"What the - ?" Ron gasped as he sprang to his feet again, staring up at the thing that had appeared.

"The hell was that? I asked.

For a split second, I thought it was another leprechaun formation. But that was stupid. That was a spell from one of the Death Eaters. This wasn't anything friendly. Then I realized that it was a colossal skull, comprised of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. As they watched, it rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation. The snake appeared to be slowly slithering out of the skull's mouth.

"Merlin..." I gasped. Anyone raised in the Wizarding World would know what that was. "That's the -"

"Dark Mark..." Cedric finished.

"Tara," Harry said, "what is -?"

He never got to ask his question. Because suddenly, the wood all around us erupted with screams. Of course. It must have been over a decade since the last time anyone had seen the Dark Mark so obviously displayed. Harry obviously didn't understand why, but the only possible cause for all of those screams was the sudden appearance of the Dark Mark, which had now risen high enough to illuminate the entire wood like some grisly neon sign. I scanned the darkness for the person who had conjured the skull, but I couldn't see anyone.

"Who's there?" Harry called again.

"Harry, come on, move!" Hermione said, seizing the collar of his jacket and tugging him backward.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked, probably startled to see her face so white and terrified.

"It's the Dark Mark, Harry!" Hermione moaned, pulling him as hard as she could. "You-Know-Who's sign!"

"Voldemort's - Harry, come on!" Ron barked.

Cedric wrapped an arm around my wrist to pull me off with him. "Those are his Death Eaters out there! His followers! They're marking his return!" I gasped, motioning around us.

The Death Eaters and Dark Mark together in a single night... That didn't mark anything good. There was certainly no coincidence in those two events happening within minutes. I turned - Ron was hurriedly scooping up his miniature Krum - the five of us started across the clearing. I noticed that Cedric kept himself in front of everyone else, but before we had taken a few hurried steps, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards, appearing from thin air, surrounding them.

For a moment I thought that they might have been the Death Eaters. I opened my mouth to scream at the others to arm themselves and fight back as hard as they could. Someone would come to our aid in time. I had to believe that. Cedric pushed me back a step. I whirled around, and in an instant, I registered two facts: Each of those wizards had his wand out, and every wand was pointing right at myself, Harry, Cedric, Ron, and Hermione. That was when I realized that we were all trying to avoid the same people.

Without pausing to think, Harry and I yelled, "DUCK!"

Harry seized Ron and Hermione and pulled them down onto the ground. I grabbed Cedric with me. "STUPEFY!" twenty voices roared.

There was a blinding series of flashes and I felt the hair on my head ripple as though a powerful wind had swept the clearing. I could feel Cedric's arm over my head, protecting me from the blasts of the spells. Raising my head a fraction of an inch - still mildly terrified that a spell might hit me straight in the face - I saw jets of fiery red light flying over us from the wizards' wands, crossing one another, bouncing off tree trunks, rebounding into the darkness. It was a good thing that we had all dropped. I hoped that no one else was standing near us.

"Stop!" a voice I recognized yelled. "STOP! That's my son!"

It was Mr. Weasley. I was sure that it was. Ron raised his head first to see his father. My hair stopped blowing about. I raised my head a little higher. I was still desperately hoping that I wouldn't get whacked in the face by one of the spells. I'd had it with getting injured. The wizard in front of me had lowered his wand. He was staring at us blankly. I wanted to motion to Harry' scar, letting them know that we weren't going to hurt them. I rolled over and saw Mr. Weasley striding toward us, looking terrified.

"Ron - Harry," Mr. Weasley's voice sounded shaky, "Hermione - are you all right? Tara! You're here. We were worried."

"Yeah. I... ran into a friend..." I muttered stupidly, looking at Cedric.

"Tara!" Dad's voice yelled.

"There you are!" Mom shouted.

They were going to kill me once they realized that I had snuck out just to meet up with Cedric in the middle of the night after I had specifically promised that I wouldn't see him for another year. Both of my parents ran up, breaking through the crowd of Ministry wizards, to smash into me and envelope me in bone-crushing hugs. That was when I realized that I had been holding Cedric's hand and his arm had been firmly wrapped around me to protect me from any free-flying spells. They would have definitely seen that.

Once they had released me, they seemed to finally realize who I was standing with. "You were with each other?" Dad asked, looking between Cedric and myself.

"Wait a second," I gasped. This was the wrong time for another fight. "It's not what you -"

"Thank you," Dad interrupted me, speaking to Cedric.

"What?" I asked, baffled.

Even Cedric looked confused. "Thank you for watching out for her," Dad told him.

Finally, Cedric seemed to be able to shake himself of his confusion. "Of course. There's no way that I was going to leave her," he told my parents.

"Thank you," Mom gasped, wrapping Cedric in a hug.

"Out of the way, Arthur," a cold, curt voice said.

It was enough to break us all apart. Mom stepped back from Cedric, allowing him to come to stand at my side. I supposed that we would deal with their odd reaction to our sneaking out to be together later. Mom and Dad turned back to see what was happening. I turned with them. The cold voice had been Mr. Crouch. He and the other Ministry wizards were closing in on us. Harry and the others got to their feet to face them. Mr. Crouch's face was taut with rage, which was somehow being directed at us.

"Which of you did it?" Mr. Crouch snapped, his sharp eyes darting between us. "Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?"

"We didn't do that!" Harry yelled, gesturing up at the skull.

"Are you nuts?" I asked loudly. He was the Minister of Magic. He didn't understand that we couldn't have done that? "That's way beyond the magic of a Fourth Year!"

"We didn't do anything!" Ron yelled, rubbing his elbow and looking indignantly at his father. "What did you want to attack us for?"

"Do not lie, sir!" Mr. Crouch yelled. His wand was still pointing directly at Ron, and his eyes were popping - he looked slightly mad. "You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"Barty," a witch in a long woolen dressing gown whispered, "they're kids, Barty, they'd never have been able to -"

"Where did the Mark come from, you five?" Mr. Weasley asked quickly.

"Over there," Hermione said shakily, pointing at the place where we had heard the voice. "There was someone behind the trees... they shouted words - an incantation -"

"Oh, stood over there, did they?" Mr. Crouch asked her nastily, turning his popping eyes on Hermione now, disbelief etched all over his face. "Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed about how that Mark is summoned, missy -"

"Don't be stupid! Everyone knows how incantations work!" I shouted, completely forgetting that I was talking to the Minister of Magic. "He said something like... Mordes... Mordesmore... I don't know. Something like that."

"Here, look." Mr. Diggory - whom Cedric had held a brief reunion with just moments before - held up a wand and showed it to Mr. Weasley. "Had it in her hand. So that's clause three of the Code of Wand Use broken, for a start. No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand."

"Dad, are you losing your mind?" Cedric asked. "That's Harry Potter. I was with them the entire time."

"Stay out of this," Mr. Diggory snapped at his son.

"You're accusing your own son?" Dad asked Mr. Diggory.

Mr. Diggory sneered at Dad, ignoring the looks he was getting from Cedric. "I'm gathering the facts," Mr. Diggory said.

That wasn't exactly saying that he wasn't blaming his son. I knew Cedric and I knew Mr. Diggory. I knew that he loved his son but there was no way that he wasn't going to just believe him. That wasn't fair. Just then there was another pop and Ludo Bagman Apparated right next to Mr. Weasley. I jumped back in surprise. Looking breathless and disorientated, Bagman spun on the spot, goggling upward at the emerald-green skull. He looked horrified at the sight of it. He really was behind on things.

"The Dark Mark!" Bagman panted, almost trampling Winky as he turned inquiringly to his colleagues. "Who did it? Did you get them? Barty! What's going on?"

For a bunch of adults who were running the Ministry of Magic, they really didn't have much of an idea what was going on. We were the ones who had heard the spell for the Dark Mark get cast. We were here for the entire thing. Bagman hadn't even known that there was an attack. Mr. Crouch had only just appeared. Not to mention that Mr. Crouch had returned empty-handed. He - like everyone else - had no idea what was happening. His face was still ghostly white, and his hands and his toothbrush mustache were both twitching.

"Where have you been, Barty? Why weren't you at the match?" Bagman asked, not giving him a chance to answer before continuing. "Your elf was saving you a seat too - gulping gargoyles!" Bagman had just noticed Winky lying at his feet. "What happened to her?"

"I have been busy, Ludo," Mr. Crouch said, still talking in the same jerky fashion, barely moving his lips. "And my elf has been stunned."

"Stunned? By you lot, you mean?" Bagman asked, pointing to us. "But why - ?"

Did he seriously think that we had done this? These people were absolutely insane. They couldn't have seriously thought that we were the ones who had done this. We weren't talented enough to do this! This was something that fully grown adults had done. Not a few Fourth and Sixth Years. We were just caught in the crossfire. Comprehension dawned suddenly on Bagman's round, shiny face; he looked up at the skull, down at Winky, and then at Mr. Crouch. He seemed to have put together what they were blaming on the house-elf.

"No! Winky? Conjure the Dark Mark? She wouldn't know how! She'd need a wand, for a start!" Bagman said.

"And she had one. I found her holding one, Ludo. If it's all right with you, Mr. Crouch, I think we should hear what she's got to say for herself," Mr. Diggory said.

Cedric was staring at his father as if he had never seen him before. I assumed that he had rarely seen his father in working mode. Right now it was a little strange. Mr. Diggory had always been a little sterner than anyone else I had known but it was weird right now. Things were so tense. Mr. Crouch gave no sign that he had heard Mr. Diggory, but Mr. Diggory seemed to take his silence for assent.

Mr. Diggory raised his own wand, pointed it at Winky, and said, "Ennervate!"

Winky stirred feebly. I could only assume that the spell wasn't very pleasant. I had never had someone else it on me and I was hoping to keep it that way. I would rather wake up naturally. Winky's great brown eyes opened and she blinked several times in a bemused sort of way. Watched by the silent wizards, she raised herself shakily into a sitting position. For a moment I thought about moving toward her to help her back to her feet, but the others must have sensed what I was planning to do because Harry and Cedric put their arms out to stop me.

Winky caught sight of Mr. Diggory's feet, and slowly, tremulously, raised her eyes to stare up into his face; then, more slowly still, she looked up into the sky. Cedric exchanged a quick look with me and I let out a soft breath. I could already tell that this wasn't going to go well for the house-elf. Looking back at Winky, I could see the floating skull reflected twice in her enormous, glassy eyes. She gave a gasp, looked wildly around the crowded clearing, and burst into terrified sobs.

"Elf! Do you know who I am? I'm a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!" Mr. Diggory asked sternly.

That was a rude way to speak to someone... I had always hated anyone speaking to house-elves like they were less than the dirt on the bottom of their shoes. Out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed that even Cedric was looking at his father in disbelief. Winky began to rock backward and forward on the ground, her breath coming in sharp bursts. She must have known that she was in trouble. I was reminded forcibly of Dobby in his moments of terrified disobedience.

"As you see, elf, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago. And you were discovered moments later, right beneath it! An explanation, if you please!" Mr. Diggory yelled at her.

"I - I - I is not doing it, sir!" Winky gasped. "I is not knowing how, sir!"

"You were found with a wand in your hand!" Mr. Diggory barked, brandishing it in front of her.

As the wand caught the green light that was filling the clearing from the skull above, I recognized it. Don't say anything, you moron. "Hey - that's mine!" Harry gasped.

Did I not just say not to say anything? Actually, I hadn't said anything to him. I was just hoping that he would have the sense not to say anything in front of a bunch of powerful wizards. I had a feeling that Harry's wand had been the one to cast the Dark Mark and that would cause a lot of stir if his was the one to do such a thing. I wanted to slap Harry, but it was already too late. He had said it. I could only hope that people would ignore it. Everyone in the clearing turned to look at him. I rolled my eyes.

"Excuse me?" Mr. Diggory asked incredulously.

"That's my wand! I dropped it!" Harry said.

"You dropped it?" Mr. Diggory repeated in disbelief. "Is this a confession? You threw it aside after you conjured the Mark?"

"Dad!" Cedric gasped.

Was Mr. Diggory kidding? He was talking to Harry Potter! "Amos, think who you're talking to!" Mr. Weasley said, very angrily. "Is Harry Potter likely to conjure the Dark Mark?"

"Er - of course not. Sorry... carried away..." Mr. Diggory mumbled.

"I didn't drop it there, anyway," Harry said, jerking his thumb toward the trees beneath the skull. "I missed it right after we got into the wood."

"So," Mr. Diggory said, his eyes hardening as he turned to look at Winky again, cowering at his feet. "You found this wand, eh, elf? And you picked it up and thought you'd have some fun with it, did you?"

"I is not doing magic with it, sir! I is... I is... I is just picking it up, sir! i is not making the Dark Mark, sir, i is not knowing how!" Winky squealed, tears streaming down the sides of her squashed and bulbous nose.

"It wasn't her!" Hermione shouted. She looked very nervous, speaking up in front of all these Ministry wizards, yet determined all the same. "Winky's got a squeaky little voice, and the voice we heard doing the incantation was much deeper!" She looked around at the rest of us, appealing for our support. "It didn't sound anything like Winky, did it?"

"No. It definitely didn't sound like an elf," Harry said, shaking his head.

"Yeah, it was a human voice," Ron said.

"It was a man," I said suddenly. "He looked about middle-aged. Maybe a little younger."

The others turned to me, shocked. "You saw someone?" Harry asked.

"For just a split second, but I saw someone. I'm assuming that it's the same person who sent up the Dark Mark," I said.

"Well, we'll soon see," Mr. Diggory growled, looking unimpressed.

"Dad, I saw him too," Cedric said. I turned to him curiously. Had he really seen him or was he trying to back up my story? Mr. Diggory stared at his son. "They're telling the truth."

"There's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, elf, did you know that?" Mr. Diggory continued, trying to ignore us.

Why weren't they taking our word for it that something had happened and we hadn't had a thing to do it? I supposed that it was because adults never liked to believe that kids knew what we were talking about. But just this one time, we did. There really had been a man and we'd had nothing to do with it. Cedric was right... We really did have a penchant for getting ourselves into trouble. Winky trembled and shook her head frantically, her ears flapping, as Mr. Diggory raised his own wand again and placed it tip to tip with Harry's.

"Prior Incantato!" Mr. Diggory roared.

I heard Hermione gasp, horrified, as a gigantic serpent-tongued skull erupted from the point where the two wands met, but it was a mere shadow of the green skull high above us; it looked as though it were made of thick gray smoke: the ghost of a spell. The spell was used to redo the final spell used by that particular wand, but at a much smaller scale.

"Deletrius!" Mr. Diggory shouted, and the smoky skull vanished in a wisp of smoke.

The air was still silent. "Okay, so it could have been anyone who had picked up Harry's wand. They could have cast the spell and then tossed the wand off to the side where Winky would pick it up," I explained.

But Mr. Diggory wasn't having it. "So," Mr. Diggory said, with a kind of savage triumph, looking down upon Winky, who was still shaking convulsively.

"I is not doing it!" Winky squealed, her eyes rolling in terror. "I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn't using wands, I isn't knowing how!"

"You've been caught red-handed, elf! Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!" Mr. Diggory roared.

"Elves don't use magic! They don't use wands, at least! They use their own specific kind of magic," I sneered at Mr. Diggory angrily. "I would think that you would know that, considering you work for the Control of Magical Creatures Division."

"Tara. Hush. Don't make things worse," Mom whispered, pulling me back.

"Sorry," I muttered.

Mr. Diggory was glaring at me. "He needed to hear it," Cedric told me, ignoring his father.

"Amos, think about it... precious few wizards know how to do that spell... Where would she have learned it?" Mr. Weasley asked loudly.

"Perhaps Amos is suggesting that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?" Mr. Crouch asked, cold anger in every syllable.

There was a deeply unpleasant silence. Amos Diggory looked horrified. "Mr. Crouch... not... not at all."

"You have now come very close to accusing the two people in this clearing who are least likely to conjure that Mark! Harry Potter - and myself. I suppose you are familiar with the boy's story, Amos?" Mr. Crouch barked.

"Of course - everyone knows -" Mr. Diggory muttered, looking highly discomforted.

"And I trust you remember the many proofs I have given, over a long career, that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those who practice them?" Mr. Crouch shouted, his eyes bulging again.

"Mr. Crouch, I - I never suggested you had anything to do with it!" Mr. Diggory muttered again, now reddening behind his scrubby brown beard.

"If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Diggory!" Mr. Crouch shouted. "Where else would she have learned to conjure it?"

"She - she might've picked it up anywhere -"

"Precisely, Amos. She might have picked it up anywhere..." Mr. Weasley said.

"Why don't we ask her?" Dad suggested.

"Winky?" Mr. Weasley asked kindly, turning to the elf, but she flinched as though he too was shouting at her. "Where exactly did you find Harry's wand?"

Winky was twisting the hem of her tea towel so violently that it was fraying beneath her fingers. "I - I is finding it... finding it there, sir... there... in the trees, sir," Winky whispered.

"You see, Amos? It's just as Tara said. Whoever conjured the Mark could have Disapparated right after they'd done it, leaving Harry's wand behind. A clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which could have betrayed them. And Winky here had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and pick it up," Mr. Weasley reasoned.

"But then, she'd have been only a few feet away from the real culprit! Elf? Did you see anyone?" Mr. Diggory asked impatiently.

"She has a name, Dad," Cedric said quietly.

He really was one of the best people I had ever met. I smiled slightly at Cedric, astounded by the way he was willing to speak to his father in front of all of these people. I was honestly so pleased that even Cedric cared for the well-being of a house-elf that he didn't even know. Especially considering his father's treatment of them. But he was better than his father. I noticed that even Hermione was giving Cedric a slightly surprised look before her lips split into a grin. I grabbed Cedric's arm, ignoring the look I was getting from Dad. Cedric glanced down and smiled at me.

Winky began to tremble worse than ever. Her giant eyes flickered from Mr. Diggory to Ludo Bagman, and onto Mr. Crouch. Then she gulped and said, "I is seeing no one, sir... no one..."

"Amos, I am fully aware that, in the ordinary course of events, you would want to take Winky into your department for questioning. I ask you, however, to allow me to deal with her," Mr. Crouch said curtly.

Something seemed a little strange about Mr. Crouch. He seemed to be a little angrier than normal. Maybe not angry, but definitely tenser than normal. Was it just because of the attack and Winky or was there something else going on? Mr. Diggory looked as though he didn't think much of that suggestion at all, but it was clear to me that Mr. Crouch was such an important member of the Ministry that he did not dare refuse him. Which was probably a good idea, considering Mr. Crouch seemed to be very angry about something right now.

"You may rest assured that she will be punished," Mr. Crouch added coldly.

"M-m-master..." Winky stammered, looking up at Mr. Crouch, her eyes brimming with tears. "M-m-master, p-p-please..."

Mr. Crouch stared back, his face somehow sharpened, each line upon it more deeply etched. There was no pity in his gaze. "Winky has behaved tonight in a manner I would not have believed possible. I told her to remain in the tent. I told her to stay there while I went to sort out the trouble. And I find that she disobeyed me. This means clothes," Mr. Crouch said slowly.

"No!" Winky shrieked, prostrating herself at Mr. Crouch's feet. "No, master! Not clothes, not clothes!"

There was no doubt in my mind that Winky was one of the most loyal house-elves I had ever met. Most house-elves were upset at the thought of freedom (save Dobby) but Winky seemed to be taking it to a new level. I knew that the only way to turn a house-elf free was to present it with proper garments. That was exactly how we had freed Dobby from the Malfoy's back in Second Year. It was pitiful to see the way Winky clutched at her tea towel as she sobbed over Mr. Crouch's feet.

"But she was frightened!" Hermione burst out angrily, glaring at Mr. Crouch. "Your elf's scared of heights, and those wizards in masks were levitating people! You can't blame her for wanting to get out of their way!"

Did Hermione really just say that? She had just yelled at Mr. Crouch in front of some of the most important witches and wizards in the Ministry. She was definitely getting bolder - especially when it came to something she was passionate about. Mr. Crouch took a step backward, freeing himself from contact with the elf, whom he was surveying as though she were something filthy and rotten that was contaminating his over-shined shoes. I almost wanted to pick up Winky and reassure her that everything would be alright.

"I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me," Mr. Crouch said coldly, looking over at Hermione. "I have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to her master, and to her master's reputation."

Winky was crying so hard that her sobs echoed around the clearing. There was a very nasty silence, which was ended by Mr. Weasley, who said quietly, "Well, I think I'll take my lot back to the tent if nobody's got any objections. Amos, that wand's told us all it can - if Harry could have it back, please."

Mr. Diggory handed Harry his wand and Harry pocketed it. "I'll be back to the tent soon," Cedric muttered to his father.

"Hurry along," Mr. Diggory responded.

"Come on, you four," Mr. Weasley said quietly. But Hermione didn't seem to want to move; her eyes were still upon the sobbing elf.

"Wait one second," I said.

"Tara! Hermione!" Mr. Weasley said, more urgently.

"Hang on!" I hissed. I would be along in just a moment. But there was something I had to do first. I walked up to Cedric and smiled awkwardly. "Guess this is goodbye for a little while."

"See you at Hogwarts. Make up for lost time there," Cedric said.

"Exactly," I chirped.

"Hang on, Cedric," Dad said, walking in between us and stopping him from leaving. "Can we speak before you leave?"

My heart jumped into my throat. Too many people were standing around for us to do this right now. "Wait a second. Dad, please don't. I'll explain everything later," I said quickly.

"Quiet, Tara," Dad reprimanded.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I muttered to Cedric.

"It's okay," he said.

Dad walked up to Cedric, giving him an even stare that I couldn't read. He let out a soft breath before saying, "You're good for my daughter."

We all stared at each other for a second. I knew that Cedric wouldn't speak so I said, "Really?"

"Yes. Unfortunately," Dad added, giving Cedric a regretful look.

"Thank you, sir," Cedric said disbelievingly.

"Don't thank me. Just keep your hands to yourself," Dad told him sharply.

"Yes, sir," Cedric said immediately.

Dad gave Cedric a brief nod before walking off. I smiled at him before turning back to Cedric, who still looked as shocked at the change of events as I was. "So... I suppose I'll write to you once I'm back at the Burrow," I told him.

"I'll be waiting," Cedric said happily.

"Bye," I told him.

Things were finally looking up for the two of us. It hadn't lasted long but it had definitely been a very tense past few days. This would lead to a much easier next few months. I smiled at Cedric and leaned up to press a kiss against his cheek, deciding immediately that I wasn't going to do anything more than that. Not when Dad had finally allowed us to be together. I wasn't really fond of having Dad see me kiss someone anyway. Cedric smiled at me as he pulled away, shook hands with Dad, and walked off with Mr. Diggory.

"Did you know what I was planning to do?" I asked Dad curiously, walking back up to him.

"I had a feeling," Dad said, shrugging.

"Damn," I mumbled.

I'd really thought that I was being clever. Apparently not. "You've never exactly been one to listen to us before," Dad pointed out. I laughed. "Maybe I reacted a little harshly before. Just because of the way I found out."

"It should have never been done that way," I admitted. "I'm sorry."

It was the truth. I should have owned up to our relationship long before I had. "We agree on that much. But I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I should have listened to you," Dad admitted. My jaw almost dropped. My own father was admitting that I was right... "Cedric Diggory clearly is a good man. He took care of you when we couldn't. Even though you don't need it. You truly care for him?"

"I do," I said immediately.

"Invite him to dinner over the weekend," Dad offered.

"Really?" I asked nervously.

"Yes."

"Thank you!"

We both laughed as I jumped over and wrapped Dad in a tight hug. He was finally listening to me. "What a nice sight this is," Mom teased, walking up between us. "The fight is finally over."

"This one, at least," I teased.

Whether or not this fight was finally over, I knew that we would end up fighting again sometime over something else. That was just the way we always were. Fighting over something - usually something quite stupid that could have been avoided. We all laughed as we walked back over to the Weasley's, Hermione, and Harry. Hermione still looked upset over what had happened with Winky, but at my insistence, she turned and followed Harry and Ron out of the clearing and off through the trees.

"What's going to happen to Winky?" Hermione asked the moment we had left the clearing.

"I don't know," Mr. Weasley said.

"The way they were treating her! Mr. Diggory, calling her 'elf' all the time... and Mr. Crouch! He knows she didn't do it and he's still going to sack her! He didn't care how frightened she'd been, or how upset she was - it was like she wasn't even human!" Hermione yelped furiously.

"Well, she's not," Ron said.

Hermione rounded on him. "That doesn't mean she hasn't got feelings, Ron. It's disgusting the way -"

"Hermione, I agree with you but now is not the time to discuss elf rights," Mr. Weasley said quickly, beckoning her on. "I want to get back to the tent as fast as we can. What happened to the others?"

"We lost them in the dark," Ron explained. "Dad, why was everyone so uptight about that skull thing?"

"I'll explain everything back at the tent," Mr. Weasley said tensely.

My eyebrow raised to the top of my forehead. "You seriously don't know what that is?" I asked Ron.

"Well, you said that it was the -"

"Not here," Mr. Weasley interrupted his son.

Perhaps he was right. There was no reason to be talking about the Dark Mark out here. It was unnerving to everyone in the Wizarding World. We walked through the silence for a little while, unobstructed as we headed back to the campsite. But when we reached the edge of the wood, our progress was impeded. A large crowd of frightened-looking witches and wizards was congregated there, and when they saw Mr. Weasley and my own parents coming toward them, many of them surged forward.

"What's going on in there?"

"Who conjured it?"

"Arthur - it's not - Him?"

"Of course it's not Him," Mr. Weasley said impatiently. "We don't know who it was; it looks like they Disapparated. Now excuse me, please, I want to get to bed."

"Calm down. We'll all explain everything later," Dad reassured them.

No one looked happy that they weren't going to explain what was going on, but they knew that it was late. It was time to go to sleep. Even I was ready to pass out. Mr. Weasley and my own parents led Harry, Ron, Hermione, and myself back through the crowd and back into the campsite. All was quiet now; there was no sign of the masked wizards, though several ruined tents were still smoking. In fact, large parts of the camp were completely destroyed. Thankfully our part had been mostly untouched. Charlie's head was poking out of our tent.

"Dad, what's going on?" Charlie called through the dark. "Fred, George, and Ginny got back okay, but the others -"

"I've got them here," Mr. Weasley said, bending down and entering the tent.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered after him. Mom and Dad held open the flap to allow me through after them. Bill was sitting at the small kitchen table, holding a bed sheet to his arm, which was bleeding profusely. Charlie had a large rip in his shirt, and Percy was sporting a bloody nose. That was when I noticed that Mom and Dad were also slightly bloody and dirty. Fred, George, and Ginny looked unhurt, though shaken. I instantly walked over to the twins. They didn't seem nearly as excitable as they normally were.

"Did you get them, Dad? The person who conjured the Mark?" Bill asked sharply.

"No. We found Barry Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark," Mr. Weasley said.

"What?" Bill, Charlie, and Percy asked together.

"Harry's wand?" Fred asked.

"Mr. Crouch's elf," Percy said, sounding thunderstruck.

They all stared at us for a moment. I stood underneath Fred and George's arms with Ginny underneath my own. I could feel that she was still shaking slightly. At least she'd had her older brothers to keep her safe. With some assistance from Harry, Ron, Hermione, and myself, Mr. Weasley and my parents explained what had happened in the woods. When we had finished our story, Percy swelled indignantly. I rolled my eyes, already knowing where this one was going.

"Well, Mr. Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" Percy yelped. "Running away when he'd expressly told her not to... embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry... how would that have looked, if she'd been brought up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control -"

"She didn't do anything - she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Hermione snapped at Percy, who looked very taken aback.

Everyone went silent without warning. Hermione had definitely become a lot bolder over the last few months. Perhaps it was because she was getting older and growing into her own. Or maybe it was because we were finally starting to rub off on her. Either way, I was proud of her. Hermione had always got on fairly well with Percy - better, indeed, than any of the others, including myself. It was nice to see someone call him out. He had deserved it since the moment we'd met him.

"Hermione, a wizard in Mr. Crouch's position can't afford a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!" Percy finally said pompously, recovering himself.

"She didn't run amok! She just picked it up off the ground!" Hermione shouted.

"Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was? It wasn't hurting anyone... Why's it such a big deal?" Ron asked impatiently.

"It's the Dark Mark, Ron! You're a Pureblood! Honestly, read a book!" I snapped irritably.

He turned to me with a shocked look. "I told you, it's You-Know-Who's symbol, Ron," Hermione said before anyone else could answer or respond to me. "I read about it in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts."

"And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years. Of course, people panicked... it was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again," Mr. Weasley said quietly.

"I don't get it. I mean... it's still only a shape in the sky..." Ron said quietly.

"Ron, You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed. The terror it inspired... you have no idea, you're too young. Just picture coming home and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside...." Mr. Weasley winced. "Everyone's worst fear... the very worst..." Mr. Weasley said quietly.

There was silence for a moment. We were all very panicked over the thought of Voldemort potentially returning. Then Bill, removing the sheet from his arm to check on his cut, said, "Well, it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Roberts' before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now."

"Glad to hear that they'll be okay," I said.

"By morning they won't remember anything," Bill insisted.

"Death Eaters? What are Death Eaters?" Harry asked.

"It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves. I think we saw what's left of them tonight - the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway," Bill explained.

"We can't prove it was them, Bill," Mr. Weasley said.

"You know it was them though!" I gasped.

"You are right. It probably was," Mr. Weasley added hopelessly.

"Yeah, I bet it was!" Ron said suddenly. "Dad, we met Draco Malfoy in the woods, and he as good as told us his dad was one of those nutters in masks! And we all know the Malfoy's were right in with You-Know-Who!"

"But what were Voldemort's supporters -" Harry began. Everybody (with the exception of my own family) flinched - like most of the Wizarding World, the Weasley's always avoided saying Voldemort's name.

"Harry, honestly," I muttered.

"Sorry," Harry said quickly. "What were You-Know-Who's supporters up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what was the point?"

"The point?" Mr. Weasley repeated with a hollow laugh. "Harry, that's their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when You-Know-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large."

"So many of them were never convicted of their crimes because of their power within the Ministry," Dad explained.

"A nice little reunion for them," Mr. Weasley finished disgustedly.

"But if they were the Death Eaters, why did they Disapparate when they saw the Dark Mark? They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?" Ron asked.

"Use your brains, Ron. If they really were Death Eaters, they worked very hard to keep out of Azkaban when You-Know-Who lost power and told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to kill and torture people. I bet they'd be even more frightened than the rest of us to see him come back. They denied they'd ever been involved with him when he lost his powers and went back to their daily lives... I don't reckon he'd be over-pleased with them, do you?" Bill pointed out.

"So... whoever conjured the Dark Mark... were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters, or to scare them away?" Hermione asked slowly.

"Your guess is as good as ours, Hermione," Mr. Weasley said. "But I'll tell you this... it was only the Death Eaters who ever knew how to conjure it. I'd be very surprised if the person who did it hadn't been a Death Eater once, even if they're not now... Listen, it's very late, and if your mother hears what's happened she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours sleep and then try and get an early Portkey out of here."

Mom smiled down at me and brushed my hair back off my forehead. "Why don't you get to bed? We'll head back in the morning. We'll have to go straight to the Ministry to help set everything right," she said.

"Okay." We exchanged a quick hug as I turned back to my bedroom. Before I could, I looked back. "Dad!" I shouted.

He turned back. "Yeah?"

"Thanks for finally admitting that Cedric is a good guy," I said happily.

Despite everything that had happened tonight, I actually had come out of things ahead. "Honey, I don't love your relationship with Cedric. I still think he's too old for you. I still would really like for you two to push it off for another year. But you're my daughter and I know that you'll do whatever you want to," Dad said. We both laughed, well aware that he was telling the truth. "I'd rather you at least be open with it. He came to your aid. He wouldn't leave you alone out there during the attack. He cares for you. You care for him. It's fair."

"Thank you. I really do appreciate you finally coming to your senses," I teased.

"Please don't let me catch the two of you -"

"No! Wonderful talk, glad you're both okay, I'll see you in the morning," I gasped, darting off.

Dad laughed as I ran back over to Mom. She wrapped me in another hug. "Goodnight, love. We'll see you in the morning before you head back to the Burrow," she said.

"Night," I chirped.

We all waved each other off. I hadn't been sure if they were going to sleep in here after everything had happened with the Death Eaters or if they were planning on heading back to their own tent on the other side of ours. Mom gave me a brief kiss on the cheek and I hugged Dad again, letting them know that I would see them in the morning before we went home. As they left the tent, I went to head to bed. Almost everyone else was already asleep. But Fred was standing near the kitchen table, looking like he wanted to speak to me.

Fred met me halfway and immediately pulled me into a hug. "Glad you found your way back to the others," he said.

"Did you see everything?" I asked curiously, pulling away.

"A little bit," Fred said.

"It was terrifying. I hate thinking that any of those people could be back," I admitted, a chill sweeping over my arms.

Fred let out a soft breath and rubbed over my arms, trying to warm me up. "Doubt it's for anything more than just making a show out of themselves. There hasn't been any word of You-Know-Who's location or any attempt of another rise to power," Fred reasoned.

"Were you three okay?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah. We managed to make it into the woods pretty fast," Fred said.

"Good."

We stood in silence for a few seconds before Fred spoke again. "Sounds like your parents have finally gotten over Diggory."

A small smile tilted up on the corner of my lips. "Yeah. They realized that Cedric was there for me during the attack and he's been there for me before all of that too," I told him.

"You're happy," Fred commented.

"Yeah, you know, I am happy. It's kind of nice. To finally be in a relationship where I don't have to hide it from someone," I said happily. That was when I noticed that Fred was merely staring at me. "You still don't like him, then?"

"How surprised are you?" Fred asked.

We both started laughing. "Not at all. Can you two ever get along?" I asked desperately.

They were some of the most important people to me. I wanted them to get along. "Probably not," Fred said.

We both started laughing. "I appreciate your honesty, at least," I said.

Fred smiled. His eyes then turned up to my forehead. "What happened to your forehead?"

"Oh, I was hit by some spell by one of the Death Eaters, I think," I said, trying to shrug it off. I didn't want anyone to worry about it. Fred's eyes widened with panic. "It hurt like hell. Got cut by a branch when I fell."

"You were hit by a Death Eater spell? Why didn't you say anything?" Fred asked worriedly.

"I didn't want to start freaking people out, like so," I pointed out.

"Come here," Fred said.

He pulled the two of us over into the kitchen, grabbing a towel that was sitting on the counter. He ran it through the remaining water that we had and gently pressed it up against my forehead. I hissed in pain for a moment before smiling as the pain faded. He wiped away the blood before setting the rag back down on the counter. He pressed one hand underneath my chin to tilt my head up to look at him. His thumb very slowly traced up to the side of my face to gently press against the cut. I jumped back slightly in surprise.

"Sorry. Sorry," Fred said quickly. "I know it doesn't feel good."

"No, no, it's okay," I said, waving off his concern. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Fred said.

He placed his hand back up against my cut, gently wiping off the new blood that was forming there. "Tara! Fred!" Mr. Weasley barked. We instantly jumped back. "Get to sleep. We're going to be moving out at first light."

"Right. Sorry," I told him, stepping past Fred. "Night, Freddie."

"Goodnight, Tara," Fred responded.

That had definitely been a rather odd way to end the night. That was saying something, too, considering the way the rest of the night had gone. So was my life. Things always seemed to be strange. I gave Fred a quick hug before joining Hermione and Ginny in the girls' room. They were both already asleep. I crawled up into my bunk with my head buzzing from the pain of the Death Eater's spell and confusion. I knew that I ought to feel exhausted: It was nearly three in the morning, but now I felt wide-awake - wide-awake, and worried.

Four days ago - it felt like much longer, but it had only been four days - I had awoken with that birthmark on my hand burning. Harry had awoken with his scar burning. Both of which were normally signs that Voldemort was near. I hadn't even thought to ask Harry if he was thinking the same thing. The stupid Cedric situation had distracted me. But tonight could have been a huge warning sign over what was to come. Because tonight, for the first time in thirteen years, Lord Voldemort's mark had appeared in the sky. What did those things mean?

Were we really in the countdown to when Voldemort returned to power? The thought made goosebumps rise over my entire body. I wrapped myself tighter in the blankets. I thought of the letter I had written with Harry to Sirius before leaving Privet Drive. Would Sirius have gotten it yet? It would depend on how far away Sirius was hiding. When would he reply? I lay looking up at the canvas, but no flying fantasies or dreams of Cedric came to me now to ease me to sleep, and it was a long time after Charlie's snores filled the tent that I finally dozed off.


	10. Mayhem at the Ministry

Mr. Weasley ended up waking us after only a few hours sleep. It didn't really matter. No one had slept much anyway. All night I'd been tormented by the memory of the curse that the Death Eater had hit me with. That horrible pain, only to jolt awake and realize that it was just a memory. I must not have looked good, because Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny had all asked if I was okay. I used the excuse that I was merely tired. I didn't want to tell them about the lingering effects of the curse. They all had enough to worry about.

It wasn't long afterward that my own parents showed up back from their tent. They looked tired as well. I assumed that they had been up late into the night talking about what had happened. The three of them used magic to pack up the two tents, and we left the campsite as quickly as possible (immediately falling into the throng of other people trying to evacuate the area quickly) passing Mr. Roberts at the door of his cottage. Mr. Roberts had a strange, dazed look about him, and he waved us off with a vague 'Merry Christmas,' despite it being late August.

"He'll be all right," Mr. Weasley said quietly as we marched off onto the moor.

"Must have been one hell of an Obliviate spell," I mumbled.

I'd never seen the effects daze someone that much. "It had to be powerful to make him forget everything that happened last night," Dad responded.

"But they won't remember everything?" I asked suddenly.

There was no way that they could remember what had happened to them last night. The mere memory would terrorize them. "No," Mom said, immediately reassuring me. I let out a soft breath. "This night will be a very fuzzy memory for them. They'll likely just remember watching television but be unable to recall what program it was or much else."

"He looks really confused," I muttered, glancing back toward Mr. Roberts.

"Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes him a bit disorientated for a while... and that was a big thing they had to make him forget," Mr. Weasley said reassuringly.

"I'm just glad he'll be okay," I said.

"Yeah," everyone else added.

No one wanted to see the Muggles get hurt. They hadn't even known what was going on. They were just innocent bystanders. We heard urgent voices as we approached the spot where the Portkey's lay, and when we reached it, we found a great number of witches and wizards gathered around Basil, the keeper of the Portkey's, all clamoring to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible. There were even more people out here right now than there had been before. It looked like everyone who had been in the stadium last night was out here.

"There's a lot of people here," I commented.

"No one wants to hang around so soon after a Death Eater attack," Charlie explained.

"This whole thing really has people freaked out," I said.

It seemed a little strange to see full-grown adults fleeing the World Cup. Especially since we weren't even that terrified. More confused. "Remember something, Tara. You were only a baby when You-Know-Who was at large. Many people remember the fear of not hearing from loved ones or having to listen to stories of Death Eater attacks getting closer and closer to the villages where they lived. This is only a reminder of the worst times of their lives," Charlie pointed out.

"Do you remember it?" I asked curiously.

He would have been old enough to remember the later part of Voldemort's reign. "Yes. I was still a young child during much of You-Know-Who's time in power, but I remember the fear. I remember seeing the looks on their faces, knowing that something was terribly wrong," Charlie said.

"Sounds horrible," I said truthfully.

"It was. Like most people, I think, I'm just hoping that this was a one-time thing."

"Do you think it was?"

"I would like to think so."

There was something that seemed unfinished about his thought. "But?" I prompted.

Charlie merely smiled at me; it was the same smile that adults always used to try and calm children. "Best not to worry yourself," Charlie said, only somewhat reassuringly. "Come on. I do believe we've gotten a Portkey."

While the two of us had been talking Mr. Weasley had been in a hurried discussion with Basil; we joined the queue and were able to take an old rubber tire back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had really risen. We all managed to fall again. This time it was much harder to get to our feet. We walked back through Ottery St. Catchpole and up the damp lane toward the Burrow in the dawn light, talking very little because we were so exhausted. I was thinking longingly of our awaiting breakfast. As we rounded the corner and the Burrow came into view, a cry echoed along the lane.

"Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!"

All of our heads snapped up to see who it was. I smiled when the figure formed in front of us. Mrs. Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for us in the front yard, came running toward us, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale and strained, a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand. I could only assume that she had heard about the Death Eater attack and had been panicked without being able to hear from us. It was one of those times I wished the wizards would take a cue from Muggles and use cell phones.

"Arthur - I've been so worried - so worried-"

Mrs. Weasley flung her arms around Mr. Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. Looking down, I saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a twinkling black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the treetops. I could only imagine that she had been awake all night, waiting and praying that we would all come back. I could see that her eyes were red-rimmed. She had clearly been crying relatively recently.

"You're all right... you're alive..." Mrs. Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr. Weasley and staring around at us all with red eyes, "Oh boys..."

And to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into such a tight hug that their heads banged together. I snorted at the sight of the twins being crushed together by their mother, who was half their size. They looked shocked to see such affection from her, especially after the explosion they'd had between them before we'd left for the match. There was a good chance that she wouldn't care less about the twins having gambled back at the World Cup. Clearly, the only thing that mattered to her right now was the fact that the twins were alive and well.

"Ouch! Mum - you're strangling us -"

"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs. Weasley cried, starting to sob again. "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough OW.L.s? Oh, Fred... George..."

"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay," Mr. Weasley said soothingly, prying her off the twins and leading her back toward the house.

The twins looked quite embarrassed and surprised as they stepped back. I smiled at them. "What the hell was that about?" Fred asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You know what it was about, you nimrod!" I snapped, somehow annoyed that Fred wasn't grateful that the fight with his mother seemed to be over. He merely stared at me. "Your mother loves you both and couldn't stand the thought that the last thing she could have said to you was about how angry she was with your O.W.L.'s."

"Think she'll stop complaining about the joke shop?" he asked.

"Complaining about it? Probably not. But I don't think that she'll be yelling at you about it quite as much," I said honestly.

"One thing to thank the Death Eaters for," George chirped.

"Not funny," I growled.

My hand traveled subconsciously up to my forehead to trace where the cut from the branch was. George walked up to chat with Bill as Fred glanced at me. "How's the forehead?" he asked.

"Oh, it's fine. It'll heal up just fine. Probably should have used a spell to clean it up but I guess it wasn't a concern," I said carelessly.

"Do you know what spell it was that hit you?" Fred asked.

"Some kind of curse but I'm not sure what it was," I said.

"Did it hurt?"

"Yeah. Really bad," I admitted. Fred winced. "But it's okay."

"Bill," Mr. Weasley said off to the side in an undertone, "pick up that paper, I want to see what it says..."

In the meantime, Fred turned back to give me a scrutinizing stare. "Are you sure that you're okay?" he asked.

Did I really look that bad? Maybe I was more tired than I had originally thought I was. "Yeah. I've been much better but I've also been much worse. The pain only lasted while the spell was on me. The second that the curse broke I was still a little dazed but that wore off after a few minutes."

Fred smiled weakly. "Glad that you were okay."

"Thanks, Freddie," I said, smiling.

He placed his hand in the small of my back and gently nudged me inside. When we were all crammed into the tiny kitchen, and Hermione had made Mrs. Weasley a cup of very strong tea, into which Mr. Weasley insisted on pouring a shot of Ogdens Old Firewhiskey, Bill handed his father the newspaper. Mr. Weasley scanned the front page while Percy looked over his shoulder. While Mr. Weasley looked furious at the contents, Percy looked more contemplative. I could already sense a fight brewing.

"I knew it," Mr. Weasley said heavily. I arched a brow curiously. "Ministry blunders... culprits not apprehended... lax security... Dark wizards running unchecked... national disgrace... Who wrote this? Ah... of course... Rita Skeeter."

"She's still writing?" I asked, surprised.

The last time I had heard Skeeter's name in the paper had been two years ago. I hadn't heard her name in a long time and I'd loved it. Skeeter always wrote the absolute worst about everyone. She had written numerous times about how Dad had somehow managed to buy the Stars' way into the Quidditch World Cup. Which was stupid, since everyone could see the points that each team had before coming into the Cup. She had even tried to write cheating scandals about Mom in regards to Dad, which they had both threatened to sue over. The article had been pulled immediately after.

"Always, darling," Dad groaned, about Skeeter's writing. He had always hated her the most out of anyone I knew. "She writes complete trash. She's more of a gossip than anyone else who writes for the Prophet."

"What a bitch," I muttered, before thinking better of it.

"Tara!" Mom snapped.

My face flushed. "Sorry. But it's true," I commented.

"Be that as it may, you don't use that kind of language," Mom reprimanded me. I nodded blankly at her. "At least, not when we're around."

Everyone at the table chuckled, except for Percy, who was steaming over the article. "That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic! Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness when we should be stamping out vampires!" Percy growled furiously. "As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans -"

"Do us a favor, Perce, and shut up," Bill said, yawning.

That time I was one of the few to laugh. But I was bothered by something Percy had said. "Vampires are just like werewolves. Perfectly safe as long as they're aware of their condition," I pointed out to Percy.

"I'm mentioned," Mr. Weasley said, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he reached the bottom of the Daily Prophet article.

"Where?" Mrs. Weasley spluttered, choking on her tea and whiskey. "If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!"

"Not by name. So are you two," Mr. Weasley said, pointing to my parents.

"By name?" Dad asked curiously.

Mr. Weasley scanned the article again before shaking his head. "Doesn't seem like it."

"It'll be alright, love," Mom said quietly, placing her hand on Dad's arm.

"Listen to this: 'If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. Three Ministry officials emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen,'" Mr. Weasley read.

"Seems like it could have been worse, though..." I muttered quietly.

The worst part had been the lie about the bodies. At least when they had said the three Ministry officials, they hadn't named them. "Considering it's Skeeter, she'll find a way to make things much worse. This won't be the last of it," Mom said.

"Oh really," Mr. Weasley said in exasperation, handing the paper to Percy. "Nobody was hurt. What was I supposed to say? Rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods... well, there certainly will be rumors now she's printed that."

"What?" I asked, shocked.

Did people believe her? "That's Skeeter for you. The rumor mill will start churning and Skeeter will find someone to lie and substantiate her claims. It's what's made her famous," Mom explained.

Mr. Weasley heaved a deep sigh. "Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office; this is going to take some smoothing over."

"I'll come with you, Father. Mr. Crouch will need all hands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person," Percy said importantly.

"Because the cauldron reports are what everyone will care about right now," I scoffed.

Percy turned to me with a little scowl. "I'll have you know -"

"Tell me when I need to go to sleep, will you?" I interrupted.

I'd had it up to here with Percy's pain in the ass personality. He was always uppity and self-important about something. "We'll be heading out there as well, Arthur," Mom added, trying to smooth over the tense moment.

"Seems like it'll be all hands on deck," Dad said.

"You'll be okay here, love?" Mom asked me.

"I'm fine. Go take care of whatever needs to be fixed," I told them.

"Be good. We'll see you soon," Dad said.

"Bye," I chirped.

They would have been at the Ministry for a lot of their time leading up to the return to Hogwarts anyway, but now I assumed that they would be spending practically all of their time at the Ministry. My parents and Mr. Weasley bustled out of the kitchen with a final farewell. Mom and Dad were chatting softly as they rounded the corner of the room. But they didn't make it far. Mrs. Weasley got to her feet and followed them, looking most upset. She must have been hoping to have him home for the end of the summer holiday.

"Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday! This hasn't got anything to do with your office; surely they can handle this without you?" Mrs. Weasley cried, pulling her husband and my parents back into the kitchen.

"I've got to go, Molly. I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and I'll be off..." Mr. Weasley said.

"You haven't made things worse, Arthur," Dad said, stepping forward. "It's Skeeter that's made things worse. Anyone with half a brain will understand that she's exaggerating everything."

"Perhaps normally. But You-Know-Who makes even the most reasonable wizard lose himself," Mr. Weasley pointed out.

With that, Mr. Weasley and my parents bade us a final farewell and Disapparated. "Mrs. Weasley," Harry suddenly, drawing everyone's attention to himself. "Hedwig hasn't arrived with a letter for me, has she?"

"Hedwig, dear?" Mrs. Weasley repeated distractedly. Harry must have been hoping for the response from Sirius. "No... no, there hasn't been any post at all."

Ron and Hermione looked curiously at Harry. I nodded at them. With a meaningful look at both of them, Harry said, "All right if I go and dump my stuff in your room, Ron?"

"Yeah... think I will too," Ron said at once.

"Tara?" Harry offered.

"Let's go," I said.

"Hermione?" Ron asked.

"Yes," she said quickly.

Without giving any of the others a moment to question why we all had to go or offer to come with us, we jumped up from the table and the four of us marched out of the kitchen and up the stairs. I could see it in Harry's eyes; he wanted to tell Ron and Hermione about our dreams from before the World Cup. I had been hesitant to say anything before, but with the Death Eater attack back at the Cup, I was now convinced that telling them was the right thing to do. Harry fell into step with me as we ascended the stairs just in front of Ron and Hermione.

"I want to tell them about the scar and birthmark hurting," Harry said echoing my own thoughts.

"I think you're right," I whispered back. "It's time to tell them with the Death Eater attack looming."

"Good," Harry said.

"What's up, Harry?" Ron asked the moment we had closed the door of the attic room behind us.

"There's something I haven't told you. We haven't told you," Harry said, motioning between the two of us. Ron and Hermione stared at us in surprise. "On Saturday morning, we both woke up with my scar and Tara's birthmark hurting again."

Ron's and Hermione's reactions were almost exactly as I had imagined them back in Harry's bedroom on Privet Drive. Hermione gasped and started making suggestions at once, mentioning a number of reference books, and everybody from Albus Dumbledore to Madam Pomfrey, the Hogwarts nurse. She mentioned my parents, just as I had known that she would. Ron simply looked dumbstruck. I exchanged a glance with Harry. We both knew that this would happen - it was why we hadn't said anything in the first place.

"But - he wasn't there, was he? You-Know-Who? I mean - last time your scar kept hurting and that birthmark pain started, he was at Hogwarts, wasn't he?" Ron asked.

"I'm sure he wasn't on Privet Drive," Harry said.

"He wasn't. Trust us. I had to go over into Harry's room after I had the dream anyway. I was out in the street for a second. I would have seen him. We have this kind of... telepathic connection to him, I think," I explained awkwardly.

"She's right. We both had the exact same dream about him... him and Peter - you know, Wormtail," Harry told them. "I can't remember all of it now, but they were plotting to kill... someone."

For a second I glanced over at Harry. He looked a little strange talking about it. That was when I realized what he was about to say. He had clearly been teetering for a moment on the verge of saying 'me,' referring to himself, but I could only assume that he couldn't bring himself to make Hermione look any more horrified than she already did. She had never liked talking about our connections to Voldemort. It had always made her nervous. I could only imagine how she would react if she ever actually met him.

"Do you remember any of it?" Harry asked me, drawing me from my thoughts.

"Yeah," I admitted.

From the moment the two of us had woken from our dreams Harry had forgotten almost everything having to do with the dream. He only remembered a few things from the dream. I was the one who had somehow remembered almost everything. So, I told Ron and Hermione about Voldemort ordering the giant snake to kill Frank Bryce after overhearing their conversation. With every passing minute of my story, I could see that Ron and Hermione were getting more and more concerned over the lifelike dream.

"It was only a dream. Just a nightmare," Ron said comfortingly.

"Yeah, but was it, though?" Harry asked, turning to look out of the window at the brightening sky. I looked down at the rotted wood floor. It wasn't a dream. I had to tell them about Little Hangleton. I knew that I did. "It's weird, isn't it? My scar and Tara's birthmark hurts, and four days later the Death Eaters are on the march, and Voldemort's sign's up in the sky again."

"Don't - say - his - name!" Ron hissed through gritted teeth.

"Shut up!" I shouted at Ron. He merely glared at me. I let a few seconds pass before speaking again. "There's something else you all need to know. I went to that place in the dream. Little Hangleton. I went into that house. The Riddle House. I went to try and see if I could find any sign of Voldemort."

"Stop saying his name!" Ron yelled at the same time Hermione howled, "You did what?"

"Everything okay up there?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"We're fine," we all called back down.

Once we were sure that Mrs. Weasley wasn't listening anymore, I turned to Ron and Hermione. "Damn it, be quiet!" I snapped at them. "Yes, I went to Little Hangleton to try and see if I could find anything in regards to the dream." Hermione looked horrified. I debated on telling them that Cedric had gone with me but ultimately I decided to cut that part out. "Obviously I was just fine."

"Well... what happened?" Hermione asked curiously.

For a moment I stared at them. I really didn't want to worry them even more than I already had. But I knew that they would never let it go. So, I went ahead and decided to tell them what had happened. I went into detail about my trip to the Riddle House, the local historian's house, and my attempt at sneaking into the graveyard. I made sure to cut out everything that had happened with Cedric. Especially the undressing to avoid the Muggle police. They would have never let that one go. Either way, for some strange reason I didn't want them to know that he was now somewhat involved in this.

Ron and Hermione were silent for a long time afterward. "But no concrete evidence?" Ron finally asked.

"No. The tale the historian makes sense about Riddle's history. Murdering his father and grandparents. It's despicable but that's something he would do. He then goes to hide in his family's home while he gathers strength. But something doesn't make sense. There was no body. Frank Bryce seemed to just vanish. They all said that it wasn't surprising. There was absolutely no evidence that he had ever been there," I explained.

None of it made any sense. Little things made sense. But with everything put together, it was almost impossible to understand. The entire situation was so convoluted. My head was spinning. We all sat in silence for a long time as I twisted my happiest memories necklace around my fingers. Did Voldemort murder his parents and come back fifty years later to hide there? Did he murder a Muggle man named Frank Bryce simply for overhearing a conversation not meant for his ears? Was Voldemort planning on taking me captive and killing Harry? Maybe...

But honestly, I just wanted to believe that it was my brain overreacting to a realistic nightmare. Finally, Hermione asked, "What do you think?"

That I wish I was just some random kid in Hogwarts who was only worried about passing my classes and getting a date... "I'm thinking that Voldemort might have sent us a fake memory... to try and get us to make the fool's move and go to Little Hangleton," I finally said.

"Which you did," Hermione pointed out.

"Yes," I agreed, feeling like a complete moron. If that really was what Voldemort had wanted, I had done just that. "Maybe he wasn't expecting the Muggles to be around. Maybe he had to abandon his quest."

"And remember what Professor Trelawney said?" Harry went on, ignoring Ron and probably trying to take the attention off my idiotic reaction to the dream. "At the end of last year?"

Professor Trelawney was our Divination teacher at Hogwarts. She was definitely a little batty. Actually, a little was understating things. Professor Trelawney was one of the strangest people I had ever met. That was saying something, considering how many odd characters I had met. I had never particularly liked her since she was always trying to predict my death in quite a number of creative ways. She had done the same thing to Harry. Much to my surprise, last year Hermione had walked out on Professor Trelawney and had never come back.

We always assumed that it was because Divination wasn't something you could learn in a book. It was something that you had to be naturally inclined to. Hermione's terrified look vanished as she let out a derisive snort. She had never believed anything that Professor Trelawney said and that was with good reason. But she hadn't heard her that day after our final exam. At the time we had thought the servant was Sirius. But now we knew that it was Peter Pettigrew, who I had dreamed was with Voldemort. He had rejoined him. Were they coming for us next?

"Oh Harry, you aren't going to pay attention to anything that old fraud says?" Hermione asked.

"You weren't there. You didn't hear her. This time was different. I told you, she went into a trance - a real one," Harry told her.

"Harry's right. Seers are rare but you know when they're having a real vision. That was real," I explained.

That voice and glaze in her eyes... She had definitely had a real vision. "And she said the Dark Lord would rise again... greater and more terrible than ever before... and he'd manage it because his servant was going to go back to him... and that night Wormtail escaped," Harry continued.

"Plus she added something when I went to her. Saying something about needing a girl," I added.

By now we all knew that the girl was me. Voldemort had referenced me enough times. He had asked me if I remembered him back in First Year. He had talked about me being with him in our Second Year. In our Third Year I had learned that Pettigrew had been babysitting me the night that Voldemort had attacked Harry's parents. There was definitely some connection there, but I still wasn't sure what that connection was. There was a long silence in which Ron fidgeted absentmindedly with a hole in his Chudley Cannons bedspread. I fiddled with my necklace even faster.

"Why were you asking if Hedwig had come, Harry?" Hermione asked, finally shattering the silence. "Are you expecting a letter?"

"We told Sirius about my scar and her birthmark. We're waiting for his answer," Harry said, shrugging.

"Good thinking! I bet Sirius will know what to do!" Ron said, his expression clearing.

"I hoped he'd get back to me quickly," Harry said worriedly.

"But we don't know where Sirius is... he could be in Africa or somewhere, couldn't he? Hedwig's not going to manage that journey in a few days," Hermione said reasonably.

"Yeah, I know," Harry said.

Despite having relatively recently heard from Sirius, there was still a leaden feeling in his stomach as I looked out of the window at the Hedwig-free sky. "I'm thinking he's somewhere in the Caribbean," I said suddenly, trying to distract myself.

"Really?" Hermione asked curiously.

After everything, Sirius deserved to be somewhere close to the equator. "You should have seen the birds that have delivered the last few letters. He's definitely somewhere tropical. It's nice. He needs somewhere with a lot of sun. Somewhere warm and sunny," I said happily.

"He deserves it after all those years in Azkaban," Harry added.

"Cold and rainy all the time," I said, a chill sweeping over my bones.

We all shook our heads. "Did you think about telling your parents, Tara?" Hermione asked.

"Uh... no..." I muttered awkwardly. It was partially not to worry them and partially because another problem had popped into my life. "I had other things on my mind."

"Diggory," Ron huffed.

"Shut up!" I snapped back at him. "I know that they'll panic the second I tell them and they'll be furious that I went to Little Hangleton without their permission. Trust me, it's the best for me not to tell them unless I'm absolutely positive that something is wrong. For all we know, this could be a massive trick."

Hermione didn't look convinced in the slightest. "If you're sure..."

"Come and have a game of Quidditch in the orchard, Harry, Tara. Come on - four on three, Bill and Charlie and Fred and George will play... You can try out the Wronski Feint..." Ron told us.

"Fun. But that's one too many people," I pointed out.

"Hermione?" Ron offered.

"Absolutely not," Hermione huffed.

She had never liked Quidditch considering that she wasn't good at it. "Bet you Ginny will play," Ron said.

"Can she?" I asked curiously.

Her older brothers all played, of course, but I had never known that Ginny actually liked playing Quidditch. "Ron," Hermione warned, in an I-don't-think-you're-being-very-sensitive sort of voice, "Harry and Tara don't want to play Quidditch right now... They're worried, and they're tired... Tara was hit with a nasty spell just a few hours ago... We all need to go to bed..."

"Yeah, I want to play Quidditch," Harry said suddenly. "Hang on, I'll get my Firebolt."

"What better thing to get something off my mind? Let's play!" I chirped excitedly.

After all of the terrible things that had happened lately, I couldn't wait to do something normal like play Quidditch for a few hours. I had never played with Charlie anyway and Oliver said that he was a wonderful player. It would probably be pretty interesting to try and compare notes with him. Bill might not have been half-bad either and Fred and George were always good for a game. Hermione gave me a reproachful look that I ignored and then left the room, muttering something that sounded very much like 'Boys.'

"Uh, hello? Not a boy!" I yelled after her.

She didn't respond. We all went out to the yard after gathering our broomsticks and changing into clothes that would be easy to play in. It ended up being Fred, Bill, Harry, and myself on one team and Ron, George, Charlie, and Ginny on the other. I was very pleased to see that Ginny was willing to come and play with us. As we went through game after game I noticed that Ginny actually had the makings to be a pretty good player. She was fast and not too bad at maneuvering. What she really needed was a better broom and a lot more practice.

There was a good chance that one day she would make a fantastic player. Before we started our third game Ginny even admitted to me that she wanted to play more - her brothers simply wouldn't let her play with them as they were growing up. That had caused me to chuck the Quaffle at the boys much harder than necessary for a few games afterward. One had hit Ron straight in the eye. We'd laughed at the black-and-blue mark on his forehead for a good twenty minutes before Charlie had agreed to fix it for fear that Mrs. Weasley would find out and kill us.

Overall we played eight games throughout the day. It was tough seeing as we couldn't use any regulation balls so we were mostly just going off of points until we reached two hundred. My team won six of the eight games - mostly because of Harry and myself. Harry was actually a surprisingly good Chaser. There was no doubt that I was the best. It was too bad that we couldn't do the Wronski Feint because of the Muggle village that was nearby. We couldn't get high enough to do it. They would see us flying before we could make it high enough to do the free fall.

We ended up spending most of the following week playing Quidditch. That was about the only thing we could do to pass the time. We could have been reading our textbooks for the next year but it was obvious that no one really wanted to do that. Save Hermione, who was spending most of her time memorizing her books as she did before the start of every year. She would either do that or watch us play from time to time. It was more often that she could be found reading in the garden. I assumed that she was likely catching up on her work for the upcoming year.

Everyone had something else they were doing. Charlie spent a lot of time writing back and forth to his friends back in Romania. From what he had mentioned one day in between Quidditch games, he apparently had some big event he was preparing for in the next few months. He didn't say what it was. Bill spent a little bit of time back at his office in Gringotts which was apparently free from most of the drama happening in the Ministry. He seemed to be one of the most relaxed when it came to everything that had happened at the World Cup.

Fred and George were spending a lot of time working on bringing their joke shop to life again. It was tough seeing as we had to work around Mrs. Weasley. Despite what had happened with her being upset for yelling at them over Weasley Wizard Wheezes, we knew that she would destroy their things if she found them again, so we had to be extremely careful. It had led to me slipping out of Ginny's room a few times in the middle of the night to meet the twins down in the living room to trade off products where no one would see.

Ginny spent much of her time working with us on Quidditch training. She admitted to me that she really wanted to be a player. A Chaser more than likely. I had smiled. She was slowly getting better and better the more time we spent with her. Hermione still spent most of her time reading but she did toss the beat-up Quaffle to me sometimes to practice my catching skills. It wasn't exactly a challenge, considering just how weak Hermione's throwing arm was, but I appreciated her effort anyway.

Ron and Harry spent the most amount of time outside playing Quidditch. It was kind of cute watching them. Harry was definitely one of the best players around. He was wicked fast on any broom he used which was why he let Ron use the Firebolt occasionally. I had made sure to let the twins use it too. Hermione tried to get them to work with her but they had wholeheartedly denied that. Mr. Weasley and Percy were barely ever home. It was easy to see that Mrs. Weasley was having a hard time dealing with Mr. Weasley constantly being away and having to deal with his accidental comment.

On the rare occasions that I managed to get away from everyone else, I went into Ginny's room for some peace and quiet. It was mostly so I could write a letter to Cedric without someone stealing it and reading out loud for everyone to hear. It meant that I had to make sure no one would notice my absence. I knew that they would notice and come looking for me. The two of us had exchanged a number of letters over the week following the World Cup. We told each other just about everything that was happening in our respective lives.

Apparently, his father was extremely busy with work - which wasn't surprising considering the entire situation with Winky. His mother was still trying to handle damage control with what had happened at the World Cup. I wondered if it was at all possible that she might have been working with Dad right now. We both ended up agreeing that the family dinner with my parents would likely be extremely awkward - since I was sure that Dad was still a little upset over our relationship - but we were glad that they were willing to give us a try.

Neither Mr. Weasley nor Percy was at home much over the following week. Percy's absence didn't really bother me. He was a little too pompous about working with 'Mr. Crouch' and how whatever he was saying was the law of the land. I was sick of it. But it was sad to see Mrs. Weasley sick with worry over what was happening with Mr. Weasley. Both of them left the house each morning before the rest of the family got up, and returned well after dinner every night. They weren't the only ones that were dealing with long days at work.

My own parents had been dealing with the mess at the World Cup. Mom had been dealing a lot with international complaints about what had happened at the World Cup - almost as if it was her fault. Dad was constantly dealing with the mess. It turned out that almost everyone was blaming his department for having not caught onto the Death Eater presence at the Cup. With their busy schedules, they had only managed to stop by a few times during the week when we were having our nighttime tea - partly to see me and partly to catch up with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

It had been just over a full week when my parents popped by the Burrow at lunchtime (looking to be in an extremely sour mood) to tell me that the family dinner would be that night and to come over just before seven to help get ready. I'd ended up popping over to Cedric's house once they had left to let him know about the dinner, which he had known was coming. No one was home when I'd stopped in so I left a note for him to Floo over to my house at seven for dinner. I'd eventually settled on spending the late afternoon getting ready for the dinner.

Hoping that none of the Weasley's (the twins) would notice that I'd put some extra effort into my outfit, I headed back out into the living room at a half to seven. My white jeans and sparkly grey shirt thankfully didn't draw much attention from anyone other than Fred, who snorted in amusement. I whacked him over the head for it. I sat with them for a quick tea before getting up to leave. Everyone was already engrossed in their own activities for the evening so I cleared my throat to call them out of their own minds.

"See you all in a few hours!" I shouted.

"Bye," everyone replied.

Most of the kids had barely looked up from what they'd been doing. Mrs. Weasley looked up from her tea to give me a strained smile. "Say hello to your parents for us, dear," she said.

"Will do," I called back.

"Tell Pretty-boy Diggory we said hello!" George yelled after me.

"Yeah, that'll be my first thought," I mumbled.

"Bring us back something to eat!" Fred added.

Mrs. Weasley barked at him almost instantaneously about whether or not he enjoyed her own cooking. I laughed under my breath as I headed over to the fireplace. It did make me slightly pleased to know that Fred would likely be getting yelled at the entire time I was over at my own house. I stepped into the dusty fireplace and picked up a handful of Floo powder. Clearing my throat once more, I tossed the Floo powder into the grate and yelled out my home address. Immediately the green flames whipped up around me.

It didn't take long for me to begin bumping into other witches and wizards who were also traveling in the Floo Network. I tried to tuck in my elbows but it didn't make much of a difference. It felt like hours had passed before I was finally spat out into my living room fireplace. I cleared my throat and shook my head free from the dizzy spell I was under before stumbling out into the living room. I couldn't see my parents but I did smell the food. It smelled good so I automatically knew they hadn't cooked it themselves.

"Hey! Anyone home?" I yelled as I walked toward the kitchen.

"In here!" Mom's voice floated from the kitchen.

"Smells good in here," I chirped as I rounded the corner. Both Mom and Dad were standing at the counter. "What are we having for dinner?"

"No idea what you’re having. We're having Chinese," Dad teased, motioning between himself and Mom. 

"Hah. You’re hilarious," I snapped, walking over to where Mom was setting out the dinner. It turned out that I was right about her not making it herself. "Chinese food? Really?"

Both of my parents turned to me, looking quite annoyed. "You should be happy that your father has decided to feed him at all," Mom pointed out.

She had a point there. In the background, I could hear Dad scoff. "Honestly, Dad," I moaned, turning back to face him. He was glaring down at the table. "What did grandpa do when Mom introduced you for the first time?"

"Warn me to stop harassing your mother," Dad said, grinning.

He gave Mom a wicked grin that she returned. I rolled my eyes. "We see how well that worked," I mumbled.

As I had gotten older Mom had told me a little bit about their relationship when they were younger. Dad had always had a crush on Mom but she hadn't felt the same way until she was older. It was very much the same way Lily and James had been throughout their schooling years. It had always made me laugh. I liked the idea that, while Dad had always loved Mom, she had once hated him. Not that I could blame either one of them. James and my own father had sounded quite annoying when they were younger.

Mom walked back over to the counter and began gathering all of the food, which had been piled onto plates. "Normally I would have made something else, sweetheart. But we've been so busy at the Ministry lately that we haven't been able to sit and think about meals," Mom told me.

"Oh... right. Sorry, I didn't think about that," I muttered dumbly.

It hadn't even occurred to me that they were too busy at the Ministry handling everything with the Death Eater attack to make a real dinner. Way to be an asshole, Tara... "It's alright," Mom said, smiling at me. "Does he like Chinese?"

"I think he'll eat whatever you give him. He's never been picky about food before," I said.

"Good," Mom muttered absentmindedly.

She strutted off to gather some more of the plates when a thought dawned on me. "Hey!" I chirped. Both of my parents turned to see what was going on. "Thanks for doing this."

"Our pleasure," Mom said brightly. Dad remained silent. "Right Marcus?"

His head whipped up from staring down at The Prophet. "Huh?" Mom rolled her eyes as she looked in between the two of us, motioning to me meaningfully. "Yeah. Our pleasure," Dad said begrudgingly.

"You sound pleased," I teased.

"Well -"

"Come on!" I interrupted, trying to keep from yelling at him. He was being such a pain. "You promised that you would be nice."

If he was going to be a jerk, I would take Cedric and go somewhere else. Perhaps out to dinner in Diagon Alley. "And I will keep that promise, Tara. I'm going to be nice, I promise," Dad said, resting a hand on my shoulder. I smiled up at him. "I love you and if that means I have to get used to you two being together... I'll work on it."

"Thanks, Dad," I said happily.

"You're welcome you massive pain in the ass," Dad said irritably.

We both laughed as I shoved him away from me. "My loving family," Mom chuckled.

"He started that one!" I barked, motioning over to him.

We all laughed. Mom suddenly glanced up and looked out to the living room. "Sounds like he's on his way," she said.

She was right. The fireplace was roaring off in the distance. I glanced up at the clock and smiled. It was seven o'clock on the dot. I knew that I could always trust Cedric to be on time. At least that would keep Dad from complaining that he couldn't even be bothered to show up when he had promised. There was a bright green flash from the living room as the flames erupted from the fireplace. Both Mom and Dad motioned for me to go and greet him. I darted from the kitchen just in time to see the green flames die down.

"Hello?" Cedric's voice called.

"Hi," I chirped. Cedric glanced up from brushing himself off to wrap me in a tight hug. As we pulled back I took his hand and pulled him along with me. "Come on in. We're all in the kitchen. Do you like Chinese food?"

"Love it," Cedric said.

"Good. That's what we're having," I told him.

"Too busy to make a real meal?" Cedric teased. I flushed with embarrassment slightly. "I'm just teasing you." Cedric placed a hand on my lower back, knowing that he had gotten me panicked for a moment. "My parents have barely been around this week. They keep leaving money for me to pop over to Diagon Alley or one of the local Muggle stores to get some food."

"Must be one hell of a time over at the Ministry," I said thoughtfully.

"Who can be surprised, honestly?" Cedric asked.

It made perfect sense. There had just been a Death Eater attack. The Ministry would be in ruins for weeks over it. "Oh, definitely not me," I told Cedric as we walked into the kitchen.

Both Mom and Dad immediately looked up. "Cedric, dear!" Mom greeted. She jumped from her spot behind the counter and walked forward to give him a tight hug. Cedric smiled, probably glad no one had hexed him yet. "Come on in. Hope everything is good. Sorry about the takeout. We didn't really have time to make anything."

"Anything would have been fine. This is wonderful. I love Chinese," Cedric said, pulling out of her hug. "Good to see you, by the way, Mrs. Nox."

"You as well," Mom replied.

Cedric then turned over to Dad. He smiled and walked forward, shaking Dad's hand tightly. "Mr. Nox," Cedric greeted. "Thank you for having me."

Dad didn't look particularly thrilled to have him here but I figured that he would at least try and be nice. "Thank you for taking care of her the other night," Dad told Cedric, referring to him watching over me during the Death Eater attack at the World Cup. "Plus it's much appreciated that you didn't -"

"Why don't we get the drinks?" I interrupted Dad, looking to Cedric.

"What?" Cedric asked, baffled at my interruption. I nodded at him urgently. "Okay."

It was very obvious to me that Dad was about to tell him that he was grateful that Cedric hadn't kissed me when he'd walked into the house. The last thing that I wanted was to make Cedric have to figure out a proper answer for that. Mostly because there really was no correct answer to that. Both of my parents laughed as we walked over to the refrigerator. I poured myself a glass of iced tea, Mom a mug of warm tea, and grabbed Dad a glass of Gillywater. Cedric decided to take some sweet tea with me. It was one of his favorite American habits of mine. My eating and drinking habits.

After a few minutes, once Mom and Dad had headed out to place the plates and food on the dining room table, Cedric turned back to me. "What was that about?" Cedric asked curiously.

"I knew that he was about to thank you for not kissing me when you came in and I didn't want to make you have to find a suitable answer for that," I answered honestly.

"A huge thank you for that," Cedric said. I giggled softly. "Now that no one is around..."

His voice trailed off as he glanced over my shoulder. I looked back to ensure that neither one of my parents were anywhere near us. They weren't. They both appeared to be out in the living room. I could hear them talking about where to put the plates. I laughed at his nerve as I leaned up and gave Cedric a lingering kiss. My arms wrapped around the back of his neck as I listened for my parents. I could hear the plates in the living room tinkling as they rearranged everything. Cedric pushed me back against the counter and my lips broke into a smile.

It would have been easy to stay like that forever but I knew that we were playing a dangerous game here. So we pulled back from each other. Cedric grabbed my arm and pulled me with him. "Come on. Before they catch us and we end up right back to square one," he said.

"Please not that again," I gasped.

Being put back to square one would be one of the worst things that could happen to us right now. All I wanted was for my parents to just accept that we were together and nothing was going to stop it. We both laughed again as we gathered our drinks and brought them out to the table. Mom and Dad thanked us as we took our seats at the table. I was on one side with Cedric. Mom was across from me and Dad was across from Cedric. I had a feeling that it was so that Dad could kick him if he said something he deemed inappropriate.

Thankfully things never got too awkward between us during the dinner. It was mostly just a typically amusing family dinner almost no different from the ones we used to have with Mr. Diggory. We had passed out the food quickly and spent a lot of time exchanging idle chitchat while we sat and ate our meals. Everyone picked at each plate on the table. None of us had eaten much during the day. I had been starving. I made sure not to stuff my face just in case I needed to step in and stop someone from saying something stupid.

Even after almost an hour at the table, no one had managed to embarrass themselves or each other yet. We spent a lot of time talking about what had happened at the World Cup. Thankfully we avoided any conversations about the Death Eaters. Everyone likely knew that I wasn't in the mood to talk about it. Or my parents after everything that had happened at the Ministry. Instead, the conversation mostly focused on the Quidditch match. It was obvious that Dad was the most animated about it. I was just happy that it was keeping him in a good mood.

Dad asked Cedric a lot about the Hufflepuff Team back at Hogwarts. I rolled my eyes each time he joked about not wanting to let me in on too many of the secrets for their new training season. I had been quick to snap that I would still manage to win with the Gryffindor Team. Cedric eventually admitted that, while he absolutely loved Quidditch and wanted to continue playing as he got older and after he graduated, he didn't think that he wanted to try and be a professional player. I nodded along with him. I'd known he hadn't wanted to be a professional player.

As we finished up dinner, Mom offered to make everyone a cup of hot tea. Once she had returned with four fresh mugs we all pushed back our plates and continued our conversations. Both of my parents asked Cedric a little bit about his own mother, seeing as they knew about his father. He explained what she did for work and why she was so rarely home. He mentioned that he was an only child much like I was - despite the fact that they'd already known that. He even mentioned that, while he loved his parents, he did wish that they were home often. I felt the same way.

That was how I felt most of the time over the summer when I wanted my parents to be around during the day. But they were normally at the Ministry. Eventually, the conversation turned to Hogwarts and his classes. He talked a lot about the classes he preferred and the ones he couldn't stand. He shared most of the same opinions on classes as I did. My parents were amused to know that he didn't like Divination. Mom seemed quite happy to know that he was interested in Herbology. I was offended that he didn't like Arithmancy.

"Have you thought much about what you wanted to do after Hogwarts, Cedric?" Dad finally asked.

Cedric glanced up from his mug and nodded. "Yeah. Last year they started talking to us about what we wanted to do after school, considering we were getting so close to the end," Cedric said. My brow raised. That was interesting. Next year I would already be thinking about my post-Hogwarts life. "Only two years left now. Have to start thinking about the future. For a long time, I was thinking about becoming an Auror."

Both of my parents smiled. "So is Tara," Mom said.

Cedric turned to me and grinned. "She's mentioned that. I was thinking an Auror or perhaps a Healer." Mom's eyes brightened at that statement. "I really do love helping people and Professor Sprout's always said that I would be good at it," Cedric explained.

"I was a Healer for a long time," Mom said.

"Did you enjoy it?" Cedric asked.

"Loved it," Mom said quickly. There was a life in her eyes I hadn't seen in a long time. "Broke my heart when we came back to England and St. Mungo's wasn't looking for Healers. But working in the Ministry could be worse."

"I don't think I want to work for the Ministry," Cedric said.

"Why's that?" Dad asked curiously.

My breath caught in my throat. Was Dad just looking for something to call Cedric out with? "Too many politics," Cedric answered. Dad's brow raised as I smiled. "If I want to help someone, I want to do it out of the goodness of my heart. Not because I need sponsorship or I need someone to agree with me."

Dad merely stared at him before saying, "That's very noble of you."

I very slowly turned to Dad and mouthed, "See?"

He rolled his eyes, kicking me gently underneath the table. "Are you ready to graduate?" Mom asked, changing the subject again.

Only one thing was for sure. I wasn't ready for him to graduate. Even though it was two years away I knew that it was going to be a really strange change of pace. I had only known Cedric when we were both students. We only had to spend about two months a year away from each other during the summer. What was it going to be like with me still in school and him working some job? Would we keep in touch? Would he decide he wanted a real adult rather than a student? I shook the thoughts from my head. I hated thinking about where our relationship would go after his graduation.

"In a way. I'm glad that I still have two years left though," Cedric answered Mom. That was one thing we could agree on. "As I'm sure you both understand, Hogwarts has become like home. I've made so many friends there. It'll be tough to leave in two years. But I'll also be ready to start that next chapter of my life. Start working and see what the world has to offer."

"It's nice to see someone prepared for the next journey life has to offer," Dad said kindly.

As nice as that thought was, there was something slightly upsetting for me. I was really going to miss Cedric once he graduated from Hogwarts. "Maybe you can come to visit," I said hopefully.

"I think I'll have to. Wouldn't want to miss whatever disaster you and your friends cook up," Cedric teased. We all laughed at each other. I was surprised that even Mom laughed. "What will the four of you do after you graduate?"

"Settle down, I hope," Mom interjected.

"It's like you don't even know me," I told her. She laughed, whacking me over the side of the head. Dad and Cedric laughed as I turned back to the latter. "Something on a much grander scale, I assume."

"Should be exciting," Cedric said.

We all laughed again. As we settled back down, I took another big gulp of my tea. "Might I ask you something, Cedric?" Dad asked, breaking the brief silence.

"Of course," Cedric said.

"My daughter has a knack for trouble," Dad said. I turned a slight glare on him as Cedric smiled. It was Harry that had a knack for trouble. I just got sucked into it. "Has she drawn you into any of it?"

"Sometimes." I swallowed a comeback. That was technically true. "Although sometimes I've asked her to tell me what's going on. Trust me, if I scared easily, I would have never kept talking to you," Cedric said, smiling at me. "What is it you say? So comes with the territory of being Harry Potter's best friend?" I nodded at him. "I've known for a long time that she's got a knack for getting herself into trouble. But she does it with a good heart and what more can anyone ask for? She sacrifices her own well-being and reputation to protect those she loves. It's an admirable - albeit dangerous - trait."

Perhaps he could be a Muggle life coach if he ever decided that he didn't want to stay in a job in the Wizarding World. He always had given the best advice and the capability to see things from both sides. Even better than I could. I smiled proudly at Cedric. There was no way that Dad would be able to say anything back to that. Not to mention that I was beaming. He was perhaps one of the few people who genuinely understood my savior complex for what it was. Dad was staring angrily down at the table as Mom looked in between the three of us, grinning.

Finally, Mom was the first one to break the silence. "Nothing to say back to that, Marcus?" she asked Dad teasingly.

Dad huffed, otherwise completely ignoring her. His head slowly turned to Cedric and I sucked in a breath. Please don't be an asshole... "At least you're not in Slytherin," he mumbled.

That could have gone much worse... Of course, he could have been much nicer about it. "That's nice, Dad," I muttered.

As usual, Cedric didn't seem to mind. "Can I help clear everything?" he offered.

Dad rolled his eyes as Mom smiled. "That would be lovely," she chirped.

Any other day I would have offered to gather the plates with them. But right now I needed to make sure that this entire dinner hadn't been a waste. Dad didn't look particularly angry about anything. Actually, he looked more put-out that Cedric hadn't made a fool or ass out of himself over the past few hours. As both Mom and Cedric began clearing the dishes from the table - chatting animatedly about her time as a Healer at St. Dorrin's - I turned to Dad. His expression was unreadable as he watched the other two disappear back into the kitchen. Then he turned to me.

"So?" I asked curiously.

"He's still too old for you," Dad said.

"Come on!" I barked.

Cedric had proved himself to be an upstanding guy and Dad was still upset about the age difference. Dad let out a little breath and smiled down at me. "I might not like or completely approve of the relationship but I admit that Cedric is a good man," Dad said. I smiled at him. That's better. "He clearly cares very deeply for you. He's smart and well-rounded. Starting to set up his future. Out of the many boys you could have picked for a first boyfriend, I suppose that there were far worse choices."

"Not completely sincere but I'll take it," I teased.

Dad grinned. Just the simple fact that he was allowing me to be with Cedric was telling about how much he trusted him. "Tell me something," Dad prompted. I nodded at him to continue. "How do you feel about his graduation looming?"

It was something that I kept trying to forget about. I didn't want to think about where we would end up once he graduated Hogwarts and we no longer saw each other every day. "Not exactly great. It's two years between when he graduates and when I do," I admitted. Dad nodded thoughtfully. "But it's still two years before he gets there. I guess I'm just trying to take it one day at a time. Things will work themselves out."

"Good for you. You never know what might happen," Dad said.

"That sounds hopeful that we might stay together," I teased.

His face immediately knitted into a scowl. "Don't get too excited," he snapped. I laughed quietly. "I can just see how happy he makes you. That's what I want, more than anything else. Your happiness. If that means that you stay with him... I'll accept it."

"Thanks, Dad," I said happily.

"You're welcome, brat," Dad sighed. I giggled softly as he shoved my face off to the side. He was such a pain in the ass. But at least he was finally being somewhat accepting. "Why don't you get him out of the kitchen for a little bit while we get things cleaned up? Be easier with just your mom and me working."

"Okay," I said.

It was hard to keep the smile out of my voice. I would have loved to get a few minutes of peace with Cedric without Mom and Dad listening in or hanging over our shoulders. I smiled at Dad as I turned and headed back into the kitchen where Cedric and Mom were still talking. They seemed to be chatting about the process of becoming a Healer. As Dad pulled Mom off to the side, I grabbed Cedric and tugged him with me. I knew that Dad meant for us to go into the living room or somewhere else within shouting distance in the house, but this was a good chance for the two of us to talk.

Cedric grinned as I took his hand and walked us backward toward the front door. "Want to see the neighborhood?" I offered.

"Sure."

Glad that he had played into it, I turned back toward the kitchen. "We're going to go on a walk for a little bit! I'm going to show Cedric the neighborhood. We'll be back soon," I called into my parents.

"Tara -"

"Enjoy!" Mom interrupted Dad, likely knowing that he was going to try and tell me not to go out. "Be back soon, yeah?"

Even though he had agreed to us dating now, he clearly still didn't trust the two of us to go out to places alone together. "Won't be more than half an hour," I promised them. Before either one of them could say anything else I grabbed Cedric's hand and yanked him toward the door. We headed out onto the front porch and I grinned when I saw Mr. Dursley surveying yard. "Hello, Mr. Dursley."

Vermin whipped around. His eyes instantly widened at the sight of me before narrowing back into little slits. "You're back, then, are you?" Vermin asked, glancing around, likely wondering if his nephew would be anywhere to be found.

Cedric was surveying the scene curiously. "Just for the night," I answered carelessly.

"You listen here you -" Vermin's voice suddenly dropped off when he realized that I wasn't alone. His beady eyes scanned over to Cedric. A much taller, much more intimidating-looking, older wizard. I grinned. "Who's that?"

"Oh," Cedric began moving toward him, "I'm -"

"This is my friend, Cedric Diggory," I interrupted, reaching out for him and pulling him back to stand next to me. He just needed to play along. Cedric looked a little confused at my introduction of him but said nothing. "You know, he's of legal age. He can show you some of what your nephew is learning at school right now. I'm sure you're interested."

"No - No!" Vermin stumbled back to the door, hanging in the frame. "Goodnight," he hissed, slamming the door shut behind him.

A moment later I heard the lock engage. If he had ever listened to us talk he would know that a very simple spell could unlock it. Cedric turned to me confusedly. "Tara, I haven't turned seventeen yet. I'm not of legal age," he pointed out.

"Oh, I know that. But he doesn't," I said, grinning.

Cedric laughed under his breath, turning back to the door. "That's Harry's uncle, then?" he asked, pointing to where Vermin had vanished.

"That's him. I call him Vermin," I explained.

"That seems appropriate," Cedric said, nodding thoughtfully. "He seemed oddly angry with you."

"Oh... yeah..." I giggled.

"Should I even bother asking what happened?" Cedric sighed.

"Actually it's kind of a funny story," I mumbled.

It really was a funny story. I just had a feeling that Cedric wouldn't completely appreciate the way that I found it funny. We could have ended up causing some serious and permanent damage to the twins. Thankfully it was only a weak Engorgement Charm that wore off within hours or could be undone with a relatively simple spell. I explained the short version of what had happened with Dudley and the twins just before our trip to the World Cup. I was quite pleased when Cedric had ended up laughing for a long time over it. He didn't seem to be the slightest bit upset over it.

"Kudos to the twins," Cedric said once he had calmed down.

"One of their better jokes, I say," I giggled.

It was definitely one of the more impressive jokes they had come up with, even though it had seemed stupid when they'd told me. "Agreed," Cedric said.

We both laughed again as we headed off away from the house. It would likely only be so long before Vermin came back out and harassed us to leave the premises of his house. Plus I didn't want Mom and Dad to see anything that was about to happen. I grabbed Cedric's hand and pulled him with me down the street. The only place I could think to go was to the park on Magnolia that Sirius had found me in last summer. It was the one place I could think of that my parents wouldn't be able to see us but would still look moderately innocent.

I'm sorry about them, by the way," I said suddenly, breaking the silence. "My parents."

"You know what? At this point, I think I'm used to it," Cedric responded.

He was definitely going to have to get used to it. They were never going to completely leave him alone. "They were just testing you to see what you'd say. If there was anything they could use against you," I explained.

"Did I give them anything?" Cedric asked curiously.

"No," I said, smiling up at him. He looked surprised. "I don't know how you did it, but I think you've managed to win them over. Trust me, they weren't banking on that. They’re horrible."

Cedric shook his head, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "Nah. They're parents who want to embarrass their kid. It sounds familiar," he said. I supposed that he was right. They were just trying to harass me and using him was the easiest way to do that. "I'm just happy your father doesn't look like he wants to kill me every time he sees me now."

"As long as you don't kiss me in front of him, I think we're good," I said honestly.

"Oh, I'm far too scared of your father to even risk it now," Cedric teased, looking aghast.

"Cedric!" I gasped.

In any other moment, it would have been a great idea to never let either one of my parents catch the two of us kissing. Dad definitely more so. But not right now! Not when no one was around. It was a great chance to be together. I laughed loudly as Cedric immediately darted into a sprint away from me. I took off at full speed to try and catch up to him. His strides were almost twice the length of my own so it was almost impossible to catch up and he knew it. He knew that he would have to slow down for me to catch him.

Unsurprisingly he didn't dare slow down. He sprinted toward the playground before jumping four steps up onto one of the raised platforms. He slowed down and began meandering up them to the top of the set. I followed him for a moment before diverting a few steps from the top. Instead, I headed over toward the monkey bars. I latched onto the first bar before throwing my legs up and hooking them over the next one. I locked my legs underneath the bar before letting my arms drop and hanging freely from the bars, upside down.

Cedric slowly walked over to me. "What are you doing?" he asked.

He was standing on the ground, facing me. From the difference in height and the height of the bars we were face-to-face. "You've never done this?" I asked curiously, swinging slightly.

"No," Cedric said confusedly.

How had he never played on the monkey bars before? He had no childhood. "Muggle kids do this all the time! You just swing yourself up and hook your legs onto the bar in front and hang here. I used to do it for hours on end. My mom used to tell me that was why I was so crazy," I told him. Cedric snorted under his breath. "All the blood would rush to my head and never come back down."

"I think your mother was onto something," Cedric teased.

We both laughed as I reached out and whopped him on the chest. "Come on you big baby," I goaded, motioning up to the bars.

"I should pull you down from there," Cedric said.

He placed his hands on my hips and gave a gentle tug. "Don't you dare!" I shouted, squirming out of his grip. He laughed at me. That would have been a good way for both of us to end up on the ground. "Come on!"

There was a good chance that he would end up falling from the bars and that was honestly what I was hoping might happen. It would be hilarious to see. For me, at least. Cedric sighed quietly as he placed his arms up on the bar and hopped up onto the lower railing. He grunted as he tightened his grip on the metal and threw himself up, just barely managing to hook his legs underneath the next bar the way I had shown him. He released his arms much slower and dropped much more awkwardly and unsure of himself than I did. But he managed to hang there.

"See?" I asked, watching him swing across from me. "Not so bad."

"You do it so gracefully," Cedric said.

"I can walk on top of the bars too. Want to see?" I offered.

Cedric's jaw dropped. "How?"

"Practice," I teased.

Now that was a trick that my parents had absolutely hated. They always looked furious when I'd done it because it would have been quite easy for me to break something. Not that they couldn't have fixed it. I smiled and pulled myself back up, locking my hands around the bar. I used my stomach muscles to pull myself up and shimmy straight through the bars. I hooked my legs over and sat up on the bars, pushing myself up and standing against two of the bars. Cedric watched me with piqued interest as I wandered over the bars.

It was definitely easier than I remembered it being. I guessed that it was because I could take slightly longer strides now that I was taller. At least, the slightest bit taller. I decided to try and throw myself into a front walkover. My legs made a few small slips as I hit the bars again and I very nearly ended up slipping through. But I just barely managed to catch myself. Cedric laughed in amusement as I dropped back in between the bars and slipped down to hang next to him again. I supposed that I had remembered some things from gymnastics lessons.

Cedric was still looking at me in surprise. "How did you learn to do all that?" he asked.

"I was in gymnastics when I was younger," I explained.

What's that?" Cedric asked curiously.

He was at bad as Ron was. "You need to take Muggle Studies," I told him. Cedric reached over and whacked me in the back of the head. I started laughing at his irritation. "It's a sport Muggles do. It's kind of tough to explain. It has exercises that include balance, strength, flexibility, agility, coordination, and endurance. It evolved from exercises used by the ancient Greeks that included those kinds of skills for mounting and dismounting a horse, and from circus performance skills."

"Do you remember any of it?" Cedric asked.

"Some of the more simple things," I said, motioning up toward the top of the set where I had just done the walkover.

"Show me something," Cedric goaded.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Okay."

Could I really do anything back on the ground? The only reason the walkover was easy was because it was pretty much in a straight line and I had the bars to grip. I guessed that I could try. He could bring me to Mom to heal me if I did something stupid. So, I nodded my consent. I released my legs from the bars before dropping from my place. Cedric followed me down much less gracefully. His long legs weren't built for throwing himself in between the narrow bars on the jungle gym. He almost flopped back down to the ground. I laughed at him.

At least there was one thing that I knew I could beat him in. "Okay…" I mumbled, walking back and forth over the playground. What could I do to impress him and not kill myself? "I could show you a round-off."

"What's that?" Cedric asked curiously.

"Watch," I told him, walking off to the other side of the playground. He watched me as I lifted my arms up. Just before I could run forward I stopped and looked back at him. "Please don't laugh if I screw it up."

"Okay," Cedric said.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped with one foot forward. I would have been lying if I'd said that I completely remembered how to do a round-off. I didn't. But I would give it a try anyway. I stepped forward and took two large running steps before placing my hands down to go into a cartwheel. Cedric laughed as I twisted my body in midair and came back down on both of my feet. It would have been an almost perfect pass if I hadn't taken a couple of massive stumbles at the end. Cedric ended up having to catch me to keep me from falling on my face.

We were both laughed as Cedric helped me back to my feet. "Looks kind of like a cartwheel," he said.

"It basically is," I explained, dusting myself off. "You just land with both feet at the same time rather than one at a time."

"Muggles really do that?" Cedric asked.

"Yeah. It's always been pretty fun. A lot of Muggle kids do it. I did just to make some friends," I explained

It had been a way for me to get along with some of the Muggle kids in my classes before I had been able to go to Ilvermorny - or Hogwarts, I supposed. "That's so cool," Cedric said, grinning.

I stepped back and motioned to where I had just done the round-off. "Your turn," I goaded.

"You'll be taking me to St. Mungo's," Cedric snorted.

We both laughed. I would have loved to see Cedric attempt a round-off. "This is nice, isn't it?" I breathed gently, glancing off toward the stars.

"Being out here?" Cedric asked.

It was definitely nice out here but there was something I was enjoying even more. "Having nothing to worry about. It seems like once we get to Hogwarts every year our year goes to shit," I said. Cedric laughed under his breath. He knew that it never took long for us to get involved in something that was far beyond us. "There's something to be panicked about. Right now is nice. It's just the two of us and there's no massive problem that no one but myself and my friends knows about."

Cedric smiled, wrapping an arm over my waist. "This is nice. It's one of the few times I've found myself not concerned that you're going to get yourself killed," he teased.

"Ye of little faith," I shot back.

Perhaps in a few months, I would manage to almost get myself killed. A real near-death experience was coming this year. I knew it was. I could feel it. "I have much faith in you," Cedric said, running a hand along my arm. "But I also know how despicable the world can be."

"Fair point," I conceded.

"Come here."

There was a devilish grin on his face. I arched my brow. That couldn't have meant anything good for me. I giggled softly as I wrapped a hand around my wrist and dragged me with him. I stumbled along as he hit the steps to the jungle gym and pulled me up toward the top. As long as he wasn't planning on trying to throw me off the top, we would be fine. Eventually, we came to the entrance to the tallest slide on the top level of the jungle gym. Cedric nudged me to stand in front of him, against the bars, and I smiled up at the stars.

He placed himself up against my back. "Remind you of somewhere?" Cedric whispered in my ear.

"Can I count on you meeting me there?" I asked, smiling down at the ground.

"Absolutely."

My lips turned up in a slight smile. The wisps of his hair were gently tickling the side of my face. After a few moments, I felt Cedric's ring and middle finger press underneath my chin to force me to look over at him. I smiled again as his fingers hooked over my chin and pulled my head to meet his. He gently tilted my head upwards and I giggled softly as we met in a sweet kiss. His hand wrapped underneath my chin to keep our mouths together as his other wound back around my waist, tugging me up against him.

We remained locked together for at least a few minutes, both relieved that we didn't have to worry about my parents or any other students wandering into our rendezvous. I was sick of having to sneak around with him no matter where we were. After a while his hand moved from underneath my chin to wrap around the back of my neck, threading his fingers into my hair. My arms tightened their grip around his waist to dig slightly into the fabric on the back of his shirt. I could feel his lips tilt up in a smile against mine. I giggled again as he stepped into me, pressing me back against the railing.

One misstep and we would have both ended up careening down the slide - which, admittedly, would have been a little bit funny. Cedric's spare hand rested on my hip, gently wrapping around the bone as his arms were so long. As his fingers gently brushed the skin where my shirt had ridden up, something dawned on me. It felt like my jacket might have loosened slightly during our little bonding session. Likely from him. He was going to be seventeen soon. Was he okay with just this? Or was there a chance that maybe he wanted more?

"I have to say something," I blurted out.

Cedric looked quite surprised that I had broken the kiss to say that. "Okay. Go ahead," Cedric said.

"Um… well… I think… I don't really know how to start this," I muttered awkwardly, stumbling pathetically over my words. "But I know that you're almost seventeen. You're older than me. You - You've had a few girlfriends or friends who were girls before and -" I broke off when I realized that he was now laughing at me. Asshole! He knew I was nervous. "And now you're laughing at me. That's great."

"No, no, I'm sorry for laughing," Cedric chuckled, grabbing my hand to keep me from shoving past him. "You just sound so terribly awkward."

"I feel awkward!" I growled.

Cedric shook his head, running his hands down my arms. He was still laughing. "You don't have to feel awkward. I know what you want to ask," Cedric said. I swallowed thickly. "Is this, what we're doing right now, good enough for me?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much it," I mumbled.

Cedric grinned and I prepared myself to hear the worst. Or best, maybe? "I'm more than happy with us the way we are right now, Tara," Cedric said.

My entire body relaxed with the knowledge that he didn't need anything more than this. "Okay," I breathed in relief. "That makes me feel better."

"Better?" Cedric asked bemusedly, raising an eyebrow.

Not better, you moron. Make him think you never want to be with him, why don't you? "Relieved," I corrected myself, quickly realizing that it hadn't sounded any better. "Not because I don't - well, I guess a better way to say it would be that… I don't know. I mean, I'd be nervous and you still sometimes make me nervous and I don't know. I mean, who do I know that even -?"

"Keep going," Cedric interrupted my nervous babbling. "I was kind of enjoying watching you struggle for words."

"Funny," I growled, whacking him on the chest.

He laughed as he stumbled back from my punch. I really didn't know how to broach that subject. "Tara, I'm just messing with you," Cedric said, reaching for my arm to keep me from walking off. I didn't want to have to deal with him laughing at my stupidity any longer. "I like us the way we are. I'm perfectly happy just being with you."

"Okay," I said, smiling awkwardly at him. "I just didn't know if you felt like…"

"I'm happy," Cedric interrupted, covering my mouth with his hand. "Let's leave it at that, shall we?"

"Sounds good," I said quickly.

The last thing that we needed was to keep talking about that. I was sure to only make things even more awkward. We stood in silence for a few moments before Cedric spoke again. "You know I was doing some research on that spell that hit you back at the World Cup," he told me.

"Come to any interesting conclusions?" I asked curiously.

"You mentioned in the letter that it felt like little white-hot knives stabbing you," Cedric said.

"Yeah," I confirmed. "Figured it was some kind of curse or hex."

"I think it was something more than that."

"Oh?"

Cedric was silent for a few moments, almost as if he was debating on telling me the truth. I nodded for him to continue. "I think someone used the Cruciatus Curse on you," Cedric said quickly.

Well, I definitely wasn't expecting that one. "Excuse me?" I asked, baffled.

"Tell me it doesn't make sense," Cedric said.

Someone would have really used an Unforgivable Curse on a child? "That's a little far-fetched though, isn't it?" I asked. Someone would have had to be quite daring to use one in public like that. "I mean to use an Unforgivable Curse is an immediate life sentence in Azkaban."

"These are Death Eaters we're talking about," Cedric pointed out. I nodded. That was a fair enough point. "I read up on it. The pain was described as being so terrible that someone would wish to die."

The curse had only lingered on me for a few seconds but it had been enough to feel that searing pain. It had been enough to make me completely blank out, wishing it was all over with. "It wasn't on me for that long but… if it had been a few seconds longer… yeah, I could see it. I could see rather dying than dealing with that pain," I told him. He looked horrified at the thought. I hadn't had time to collect my thoughts after the curse had hit me, but I could see the urge to die if it was on someone for an extended period of time. "You really think that it was the Cruciatus Curse?"

"I do," Cedric said regretfully.

"Why would they use it on me?" I asked curiously.

"Why not?" Cedric responded. I raised a brow, unsure of what he meant. "They're Death Eaters. There's no reason for what they do. Just like with the Roberts family. It's fun to them. To see a young girl writhing in pain from a curse. Probably just something to laugh at."

"How could someone be so despicable?" I hissed.

"Somewhere in the back of their demented minds, I'm sure it makes sense. Belittling people by showing their own power," Cedric explained.

The entire thing was disgusting. Risking murdering someone just to get a little bit of a laugh. How could someone really do something like that? I hated even thinking about it. At the same time, I glanced down. A rather disturbing memory was coming back to me. I remembered back in First Year, at the Sorting Ceremony, when the Sorting Hat had told me that I desired power. Just as the Death Eaters did. Didn't I always like to be at the top of everything, including Quidditch? I had to remind myself that it was only a game. What they were doing out there was life or death. It was all different.

This was so much different. "Now that you've officially creeped me out…" I muttered, laughing awkwardly at Cedric.

"Sorry," Cedric said, smiling guiltily. "Just thought that you might want to know."

"Think it's worth telling anyone?" I asked him curiously.

Both Mom and Dad would lose it if they found out that someone had cast the Cruciatus Curse on me. "Doubtful. I think you'll just make them nervous," Cedric said.

"See how easy it becomes to keep secrets to protect people?" I asked teasingly.

Cedric grinned, knowing that I had him caught. "Touché."

It really was the truth. It always became easy to lie about things to protect the people you loved. I did it on a regular basis. In fact, I was still doing it. I was doing it with my parents and, on some level, I was doing it with Cedric. I supposed that I was doing it with Harry, Ron, and Hermione too. With the boxes and notes from the mystery sender and so much more. Desperate to think about something else, I headed down the playground and began meandering back and forth over the lower levels of the set.

"I didn't know that you were thinking about maybe becoming a Healer," I called up to Cedric, who was still lingering at the top of the slide.

"I'm really torn in between whether I want to be an Auror or a Healer. I'm not even sure. There might be something else I want to do. A Curse-Breaker or maybe an Herbologist. I don't know. Maybe even a professor," Cedric said.

"Decisions, decisions," I teased.

"Tell me about it," he laughed. "I just don't know what to pick."

It was a game that I used to play with my parents when I was a kid to make a quick choice. "Pick one," I said brusquely.

"Huh?" Cedric asked confusedly.

"Right now. I curse you if you don't choose," I told him, slipping my wand out of my boot. Cedric stared at me like I had lost my mind. "Two seconds. Go!" Cedric still looked baffled as I couldn't to two in my head and raised my wand. "Dens -"

"Healer!" Cedric shouted suddenly. I grinned at him. He was breathing heavily. "What the hell was that about?"

It might not have always been the nicest thing in the world for me to do to him but it seemed to have worked. "Push someone to say something at the forefront of their mind. You give them just a second to choose or put in some kind of punishment. They'll say it out of fear but normally there's something more there. I think you want to be a Healer," I told him.

"You almost really hexed me," Cedric said disbelievingly.

"I knew that you would choose," I said confidently.

"What if I hadn't?"

"You would have been explaining what had happened to the Improper Use of Magic Office."

"You would have gotten your wand snapped."

"But see? I didn't."

"What hex were you planning on using?" Cedric asked.

"Densaugeo," I told him.

His jaw flapped open as I smiled guiltily. "Grotesquely enlarging my teeth?" Cedric asked.

At least he had paid attention in class. "But I really do like your smile so I'm very grateful that I didn't have to do that," I teased.

He still didn't look particularly thrilled that I had almost hexed him. The stupid part was that I really had almost hexed him. I had been completely ready to cast the spell. It was a good thing that he was paying attention and hadn't let me do it. I smiled at him as his face eventually broke into a smile. He rolled his eyes at me as he wrapped an arm around my back, pulling me flush against him. He gave me a slight whack over the back of the head before leaning down and pressing a long kiss against my mouth. I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck.

We stayed together for a long time before finally breaking apart. "Should we head back?" Cedric offered.

Did I want to head back? Absolutely not. "Probably. I said only half an hour and I think it's been about that," I said, glancing down at my Muggle watch.

"Shall we?" Cedric asked, motioning back up the street to my house.

"I suppose," I groaned.

At some point, I had to head back home anyway. I had to say goodbye to my parents before heading back to the Burrow for the night. I had a feeling that they would all want to know what had happened. We both smiled at each other as we headed back home - stopping a number of times to share a kiss out of the sight of my parents. I was so happy to be back with him and to have my parents finally accepting the two of us being together. Plus I could tell that he was happy that things had changed between our families too. Eventually, we made it up the road and wandered back into my house.

We walked over into the living room where my parents were sitting together. They stood as we walked into the house. "I just wanted to thank you both so much for dinner," Cedric told them.

"It was our pleasure," Mom said, smiling brightly at him. "Right, Marcus?"

"Yeah. It was good to see you, Cedric," Dad said halfway-earnestly.

"You as well, sir," Cedric said politely.

At least they weren't trying to kill each other. "We're likely going to be busy over the next few days leading up to your return to Hogwarts. I'd assume that your parents are having the same struggles," Mom told Cedric, who nodded at her. "Perhaps you can come over next summer?"

My eyes widened. That was surprisingly nice... "As long as you'll have me," Cedric said.

"Bye, sweetheart," Mom told him, giving him a small hug.

"See you at the platform," Dad added, shaking his hand.

"Have a wonderful night," Cedric told them.

"Be right back," I told my parents.

They both nodded as we turned to walk off. They headed into the kitchen likely to give us a moment of privacy. I could hear Dad grumbling about it as he walked off. I grabbed Cedric's hand and pulled him back over to the fireplace. I doubted that we would see each other again before we headed off for Hogwarts so I would have to say goodbye for a while. I glanced back over my shoulder and noticed that my parents had wandered into the kitchen, standing at the counter and drinking their tea. They weren't paying attention. So, I leaned up and kissed Cedric again.

We stayed together for a brief moment before pulling apart. No use in getting caught right now. "Not sure if I'll see you again before the new term starts but I'll write," I told him.

"Absolutely. I'll see you on the platform if not before," Cedric said.

"Bye," I chirped.

In a week we would be able to see each other every day. I really did miss getting to see him all the time. If nothing else, just get the chance to talk to him. I guessed that I just missed being back in Hogwarts. We exchanged another brief kiss before stepping back. I receded a few steps into the living room as Cedric took a handful of Floo powder and stepped back into the fireplace. He threw the powder down into the fireplace and called out his address. The flames shot up around him as he vanished. I smiled at the slowly-dying flames and turned back to the kitchen.

My parents glanced up. Mom was smiling at me while Dad still had an unreadable mask on his face. "Was that so painful?" I asked, walking back into the kitchen with them.

"He's still too old for you," Dad huffed.

That was his argument only because he couldn't find anything else to complain about. "Face it. That's the only thing you have to say back to him. He's a great guy and you know it," I said somewhat haughtily.

"Yes, yes, he's wonderful," Dad muttered, waving me off.

Mom grinned, stepping between us. "Thank you for at least being willing to work with each other on this one."

Dad turned to me and gave a slightly strained smile. "If you're happy, that's what matters to me, love," he said.

"Thanks, Dad," I said quietly.

"We adore Cedric," Mom told me. Dad only looked like he agreed about halfway. "He's a good man."

"He really is," I told them.

We all exchanged little hugs as I stepped back. "It's getting late. You should really head back to the Burrow and get ready for bed," Dad said, turning to Mom. "I'm going to head into the office and get some work done before bed."

"I think I'll join you," Mom told him.

Midnight work at the Ministry sounded terrible to me. "See you guys on the first, yeah?" I asked.

"We'll drop by a few times before that," Mom said.

"See you soon," Dad said.

"I'll let the Weasley's know you said hello," I told them.

There was a good chance that Mr. Weasley wouldn't even be home when I got back to the Burrow. And, if he wasn't, I assumed that Percy wouldn't be there either. We all exchanged short hugs and kisses before I wandered back to the fireplace. Mom and Dad Disapparated before I could take the Floo powder. I shot back through the fireplace and found myself almost thrown from the fireplace in the Burrow's living room. I smiled when I saw all of the Weasley's crowded around the table. As expected, neither Mr. Weasley nor Percy was home.

"How'd it go?" everyone asked, turning to me.

Not a single one of them had bothered to greet me. "Hello to you all too," I teased.

We all laughed as I walked out of the fireplace, brushed myself off, and headed into the room with everyone else. I took a seat at the table and smiled at everyone. Fred and George seemed to be messing with fireworks, Harry and Ron were reading through Flying With the Cannons, and Ginny and Hermione were discussing classes. They all stopped to listen to me explain most of what had happened over the night. I'd left out our trip to the playground. They all seemed thrilled to know that I had had a good time and my parents hadn't lost it over my continued relationship.

Over the next few days, I got to see my parents a few times. They didn't stay long but they tried to drop by at least every other day. I'd never seen them look so tired. The Ministry work was clearly taking its toll. I didn't really mind not getting to see them that much. As much as I loved them, I was glad to have a bit of a break from them. I also got a lot of chances to write to Cedric over the next few days. We exchanged at least two letters a day since the Burrow was so close to his home - they lived on opposite sides of the village.

The others got quite a kick out of teasing me over my relationship with Cedric. It was one of their favorite pass-times in the days leading up to our return to Hogwarts. They all seemed to think that it would be even easier to tease me now that our relationship was out in the open. They now didn't have to worry about someone overhearing and having it get back to my parents. Harry and Ron absolutely hated the relationship as usual. Hermione and Ginny thought that it was adorable. Fred and George teased me absolutely mercilessly over it.

But there was something slightly different about the way that Fred teased me. His smiles always seemed slightly strained. His jokes always seemed to be a little bit on the scathing side. Some of his comments had actually hurt slightly. But I wouldn't dare let him know that he was getting to me. So I forced a laugh and rolled my eyes, stalking away from him. I wasn't sure what his weirdness over Cedric was. All I knew was that there was very clearly some bad blood between them. I also knew that I didn't want to ask about it. It likely wouldn't be a pleasant conversation.

The Sunday before we were set to return to Hogwarts we were all sitting around the dinner table finishing our tea. Or, in my case, coffee. Fred was staring at me in disgust. He had tried it earlier and complained for almost an hour about how I could drink something so bitter. Everyone else had laughed and agreed with him. I rolled my eyes. They were missing out. In the meantime, we were trying to celebrate our last night of peace that we would get before school started again. Everyone but Mr. Weasley was home but we were chatting mostly about the Ministry.

"It's been an absolute uproar," Percy told us importantly. "I've been putting out fires all week."

"About cauldrons?" I asked curiously.

Everyone laughed as Percy blushed madly. "People keep sending Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes," he explained, trying to ignore my comment. "Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduced to cinders."

"Why are they all sending Howlers?" Ginny asked as she mended her copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi with Spellotape on the rug in front of the living room fire.

"Complaining about security at the World Cup. They want compensation for their ruined property," Percy told us. I rolled my eyes. They hadn't known who the Death Eaters were during the Wizarding War. How would they know during the Quidditch World Cup? "Mundungus Fletcher's put in a claim for a twelve-bedroom tent with en-suite Jacuzzi, but I've got his number. I know for a fact he was sleeping under a cloak propped on sticks."

"I thought that you handled cauldron bottoms?" I teased.

Everyone laughed again as Percy turned to me. "I've been granted more authority from Mr. Crouch to begin taking on new duties," he said indignantly, starting to turn bright red.

"Sounds tiring," I groaned.

"Rewarding, I think you mean," Percy said.

"No. I said what I meant," I said.

He looked less than thrilled with me. But I had meant what I'd said. Working that high in the Ministry sounded miserable. Mom and Dad certainly had looked that way when they'd been here earlier to tell me that they would meet me on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters tomorrow. Mrs. Weasley glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. I liked that clock a lot. It was completely useless if you wanted to know the time, but otherwise very informative. It had nine golden hands, and each of them was engraved with one of the Weasley family's names.

There were no numerals around the face, but descriptions of where each family member might be. Home, school, and work were there, but there was also traveling, lost, hospital, prison, and, in the position where the number twelve would be on a normal clock, mortal peril. Eight of the hands were currently pointing to the home position, but Mr. Weasley's, which was the longest, was still pointing to work. Mom and Dad had told her that Mr. Weasley had looked up to his neck in work when they'd last seen him. Mrs. Weasley sighed.

"Your father hasn't had to go into the office on weekends since the days of You-Know-Who. They're working him far too hard. His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon," Mrs. Weasley said to no one in particular.

"Well, Father feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?" Percy asked.

My head snapped up from my coffee mug. "Your mother's going to kill him for that," I muttered.

"Yes, she will," Fred said.

"If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first -"

"Don't you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!" Mrs. Weasley hissed at her son, flaring up at once.

"If Dad hadn't said anything, old Rita would just have said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented," Bill called from the living room, who was playing chess with Ron. "Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember, she interviewed all the Gringotts' Charm Breakers once, and called me 'a long-haired pillock'?"

"Well, it is a bit long, dear," Mrs. Weasley said gently. "If you'd just let me -"

"No, Mum."

"I like it, Bill," I called to him.

"Thank you, Tara," Bill said, smiling at me.

Rain lashed against the living room window. Hermione was immersed in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, copies of which Mrs. Weasley had bought for her, Harry, Ron, and me in Diagon Alley during the World Cup. Charlie was darning a fireproof balaclava. Harry was polishing his Firebolt, the broomstick servicing kit Hermione had given him for his thirteenth birthday open at his feet. Fred and George were sitting in a far corner, quills out, talking in whispers, their heads bent over a piece of parchment.

Very slowly I meandered over to them. I knew what they were doing. A lot of their inventory for Weasley Wizard Wheezes had been destroyed by Mrs. Weasley and they were having a hard time rebuilding it. I brought my coffee mug over and seated myself between them. It would definitely be tough since we hadn't really gotten much of a chance to sit together and rebuild the joke shop. Especially since Mrs. Weasley was still watching them. We had only really been able to work on the store for about two hours since I had arrived at the Burrow two weeks ago.

"You might need to use a different spell for that one," I muttered, pointing to their newest design of fireworks that were supposed to chase an intended target. "I don't think it's lasting long enough."

"But we can't use something that'll actually injure the user," George whispered.

"That's surprisingly polite of you," I said, raising a brow.

"Please, Tara. Don't be stupid. We just don't need a lawsuit," George responded.

I snorted under my breath and shook my head at him. "How I didn't see that coming, I'll never know," I groaned.

"What are you two up to?" Mrs. Weasley asked sharply, her eyes on the twins.

"Homework," Fred said vaguely.

Everyone knew that the twins never did their homework. At least, not until the last second. "Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday," Mrs. Weasley told them.

"Yeah, we've left it a bit late," George said.

"You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you? You wouldn't be thinking of restarting Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?" Mrs. Weasley asked them shrewdly.

This was exactly why I had told them to do their work upstairs in their bedroom. "Now, Mum," Fred started, looking up at her, a pained look on his face. "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel to know that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"

Everyone laughed, even Mrs. Weasley. I shoved my head into Fred's shoulder, giggling madly. He was smiling down at me as I shifted slightly and laid back against his shoulder. He was definitely the most comfortable of the Weasley's to lay on. I sipped from my coffee mug as Fred and George put all of their experiments away just in time for Mrs. Weasley to walk over and whack Fred over the back of the head. We all laughed again. Once she had walked off I looked back over my shoulder and smiled up at Fred.

"Gonna milk that one forever, huh?" I asked.

"Absolutely," the twins said together.

"Oh, your father's coming!" Mrs. Weasley said suddenly, looking up at the clock again.

Mr. Weasley's hand had suddenly spun from work to traveling. I smiled at Mrs. Weasley. She looked quite pleased to see that Mr. Weasley was heading back home. It was the earliest that he had gotten home since the Quidditch World Cup. Although there was a chance that he would be going back into his office in a matter of hours. A second later the spoon hand had shuddered to a halt on home with the others, and we heard him calling from the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley looked quite happy that he was home before midnight.

"Coming, Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley called, hurrying out of the room.

Everyone else smiled at them. We all knew that she had been extremely upset over the past few weeks since her husband had hardly ever been home. At least Mom and Dad were together all day while they were at the Ministry. Although they seemed to have both been extremely tense since the attack. Not that I could blame them. It was half of the reason I hadn't told them about the potential Cruciatus Curse being used on me. A few moments later, Mr. Weasley came into the warm living room carrying his dinner on a tray. He looked completely exhausted.

"Well, the fat's really in the fire now," Mr. Weasley told Mrs. Weasley as he sat down in an armchair near the hearth and toyed unenthusiastically with his somewhat shriveled cauliflower. "Rita Skeeter's been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report. And now she's found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that'll be the headline in the Prophet tomorrow. I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago."

"Mr. Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks," Percy said swiftly.

"Who the hell cares what Mr. Crouch thinks?" I snapped.

Percy shot me a heated glare. "Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn't found out about Winky. There'd be a week's worth of headlines in his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark," Mr. Weasley said.

"Dad said he had that story buried," I put in curiously.

They had told me that when they had visited the Burrow a few days ago. "He was working closely with Mr. Diggory to ensure that Winky's name didn't make it into any official reports. Skeeter would have found out within seconds if we did," Mr. Weasley explained to us.

"I thought we were all agreed that that elf, while irresponsible, did not conjure the Mark?" Percy asked hotly.

"If you ask me, Mr. Crouch is very lucky no one at the Daily Prophet knows how mean he is to elves!" Hermione said angrily.

"Now look here, Hermione!" Percy gasped. "A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr. Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants -"

"His slave, you mean!" Hermione interrupted loudly, her voice rising passionately. "Because he didn't pay Winky, did he?"

"I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!" Mrs. Weasley interrupted even louder, breaking up the argument. "Come on now, all of you..."

"Well that was exciting," I muttered.

It was the first time that I had really heard either one of them bicker with the other. They tended to be two of the friendliest people with each other. I had always known that Percy liked Hermione more than any of the rest of us. At Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's insistence, we all got to our feet and headed off to bed. The boys were all laughing at the stunned look on Percy's face. I walked up the stairs with Hermione and Ginny, the former ranting and raving like a lunatic throughout the climb about House-Elf welfare and rights. Once inside Ginny's' room, I packed at light speed.

My trunk and bags were packed within five minutes. It was the fastest I had ever managed it. Hermione still hadn't stopped yelling about House-Elf rights. "Hermione!" I yelled, interrupting her for the first time. "As much as I love hearing you rant about house-elf welfare, which is very important, I think Harry has something of mine. I'll be back in a little bit."

"Oh, very well," Hermione sighed, muttering angrily under her breath.

Before she got the chance to say anything else I darted out of Ginny's room, slammed the door shut behind me, and darted up the three flights to Ron's room. I walked inside and smiled tensely at Harry and Ron. "What's up?" Harry asked curiously.

"Hermione won't shut the hell up about house-elves and I couldn't stand it for another few seconds. So I decided to come and see what you two are doing," I explained.

They both laughed as they went to packing and I began helping them. Harry was currently packing up his broomstick servicing kit along with his Firebolt. Ron looked to be shoving things in his trunk at random. The rain sounded even louder at the top of the house, accompanied by loud whistling and moans from the wind, not to mention sporadic howls from the ghoul who lived in the attic. Pigwidgeon began twittering and zooming around his cage upon my entrance. The sight of the half-packed trunks seemed to have sent him into a frenzy of excitement.

"Bung him some Owl Treats," Ron said, throwing a packet across to Harry. "It might shut him up."

Pigwidgeon was definitely one of the funniest animals I had ever met. Dai and Hedwig had never liked him. I knew that it was because they were dignified owls. They were larger and definitely traditional-looking owls. They didn't like the goofiness of Pigwidgeon. I still hated his name. Ginny liked to insist that it was cute. Harry poked a few Owl Treats through the bars of Pigwidgeon's cage, then turned to his trunk. I smiled at him and poked my fingers through the cage, letting him nibble on them. Hedwig's cage stood next to Pigwidgeon's, still empty.

"It's been over a week," Harry said, looking at Hedwig's deserted perch. "Tara, Ron, you don't reckon Sirius has been caught, do you?"

"Nah, it would've been in the Daily Prophet. The Ministry would want to show they'd caught someone, wouldn't they?" Ron said confidently.

"He's right," I told Harry. "The Ministry wants to prove that they are still capable of protecting someone after what happened at the World Cup. He's still considered to be one of the Ministry's biggest problems."

"Yeah, I suppose..." Harry muttered.

"He's fine, Harry. Don't worry about it," I said.

"Look, here's the stuff Mum got for you in Diagon Alley. And she's got some gold out of your vault for you... and she's washed all your socks," Ron told Harry.

Ron heaved a pile of parcels onto Harry's camp bed and dropped the money bag and a load of socks next to it. I started helping Harry unwrap the shopping parcels. Apart from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, by Miranda Goshawk, he had a handful of new quills, a dozen rolls of parchment, and refills for his potion-making kit - apparently, he had been running low on spine of lionfish and essence of belladonna. He was just piling underwear into his cauldron when Ron made a loud noise of disgust behind us.

"What is that supposed to be?" Ron asked.

What was he holding? It looked disgusting. I couldn't tell if it was food or clothes or something completely different. He was holding up something that looked to me like a long, maroon velvet dress. I walked a few steps closer and groaned in disgust. Was that what I thought it was? It had a moldy-looking lace frill at the collar and matching lace cuffs. Yes. Those were definitely exactly what I thought they were. There was a knock on the door, and Mrs. Weasley entered, carrying an armful of freshly laundered Hogwarts robes, including my own.

"Oh, are those dress robes?" I asked Ron, smiling at the moldy clothes.

"They're disgusting!" Ron gasped.

"They're old... and classic," I said awkwardly.

"Classic?" Ron repeated, baffled.

They were just done in a traditional style. I'd seen them plenty of times before. They were just usually preserved better. "Here you are," Mrs. Weasley said, sorting them into three piles. "Now, mind you pack them properly so they don't crease."

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," I said.

"Mum, you've given me Ginny's new dress," Ron said, handing it out to her.

"Of course I haven't. That's for you. Dress robes," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Told you," I snorted.

"What?" Ron asked, looking horror-struck.

"Dress robes!" Mrs. Weasley repeated. "It says on your school list that you're supposed to have dress robes this year... robes for formal occasions."

"Formal occasions?" I asked curiously. Mrs. Weasley nodded at me. "Hogwarts doesn't do anything formal."

"Apparently this year they do," Mrs. Weasley said knowingly.

It had to be something to do with the big mystery that was surrounding Hogwarts this year. "You've got to be kidding," Ron told his mother in disbelief. "I'm not wearing that, no way."

"Everyone wears them, Ron! They're all like that! Your father's got some for smart parties!" Mrs. Weasley said crossly.

"I'll go starkers before I put that on," Ron said stubbornly.

"Please don't do that," I groaned.

That was the last thing I needed to see. "Don't be so silly. You've got to have dress robes, they're on your list! I got some for Harry too... show him, Harry..." Mrs. Weasley said, pointing to his suitcase.

A broad grin crossed over my face. I couldn't wait to see what Mrs. Weasley had gotten Harry. I would have loved a chance to laugh at the two of them. In some trepidation, Harry opened the last parcel on his camp bed. I hung over his shoulder curiously. It wasn't as bad as any of us had expected, however; his dress robes didn't have any lace on them at all - in fact, they were more or less the same as his school ones, except that they were bottle green instead of black. They were a more modern version of Ron's.

"I thought they'd bring out the color of your eyes, dear," Mrs. Weasley said fondly.

"Those are pretty," I said quietly.

"Well, they're okay!" Ron said angrily, looking at Harry's robes. "Why couldn't I have some like that?"

"Because... well, I had to get yours secondhand, and there wasn't a lot of choices!" Mrs. Weasley said, flushing.

That made both Harry and me swallow thickly. We had never particularly enjoyed the money conversation with the Weasley's. Harry looked away. I followed suit a moment later. I knew that he would willingly have split all the money in his Gringotts vault with the Weasley's, but we both knew that they would never take it. The Weasley's had always struggled with money but they had never taken handouts from anyone. Especially not us. Any of his friends. That would have only made things even worse for him.

"I'm never wearing them. Never," Ron was saying stubbornly.

"Fine," Mrs. Weasley snapped. "Go naked. And, Harry, make sure you get a picture of him. Goodness knows I could do with a laugh."

I laughed loudly at the thought. Something dawned on me when I glanced down at the dress robes again. "Wait a second. What about mine? If it says that we need formal dress robes... shouldn't I have something?" I asked Mrs. Weasley.

"Wait until you're in Hogsmeade, love. There's some clothing and robe stores out there that you might want to look through," Mrs. Weasley told me sweetly.

"Hmm... I suppose I'll have to take that into consideration. I wonder what it's all about? The formal things?" I asked.

"Who cares?" Ron huffed.

He definitely wasn't happy about his dress robes. I was just looking forward to the moment that he had to wear them. It definitely wasn't something that I was planning on letting him forget anytime soon. Not after everything he had teased me for. Mrs. Weasley left the room, slamming the door behind her. I felt slightly bad for her. She went through so much trouble for her kids and they were always being a pain in the ass. There was a sudden funny spluttering noise from behind us. Pigwidgeon was choking on an overlarge Owl Treat.

"Why is everything I own rubbish?" Ron asked furiously, striding across the room to unstick Pigwidgeon's beak.


	11. Aboard the Hogwarts Express

There was a definite end-of-the-holidays gloom in the air when I awoke the next morning. We were getting back to another year of never-ending assignments and bullying from Snape and more than likely some new disaster. I wasn't ready to leave the Burrow and get back to reality. The only good thing was that I would constantly be around Cedric and the rest of my friends. Heavy rain was still splattering against the window as I got dressed in Muggle clothes; we would change into our school robes on the Hogwarts Express.

Gathering the last of the things that I would need for the upcoming year, I pulled all of my things together and pushed them into the corner of the room. Mr. Weasley would move everything out. I smiled happily as I got ready to head into the living room. Today would be the first time I would see Cedric since the dinner with my parents and I couldn't wait to run into him again. Because I knew I would see him again, I did dress up slightly. I was in a nicer pair of distressed jeans and a tank top with a leather jacket over the top.

The one good thing about having a mother who really loved fashion was that she passed down her older things - which were admittedly quite cute. Unfortunately, Hermione and Ginny both knew what I was doing. As I walked back out of the bathroom after fixing my hair, they both glanced in my direction and started laughing. I rolled my eyes at them. They were smart enough to know that I was making an effort to try and impress my boyfriend. If I was lucky, maybe the boys wouldn't notice.

"Not a word," I snapped at the girls.

"We didn't say anything," Hermione said.

But I could read it right on their faces. They thought that this was both a little funny and adorable. "Are you meeting him on the platform?" Ginny asked, placing all of her things with mine.

"I'm sure that I'll see him there. I'm not exactly sure where we're supposed to see each other," I said honestly. We never really had plans. "Usually we just kind of run into each other."

Ginny smiled. "Sounds surprisingly romantic."

"At times," I mumbled.

We all laughed as we gathered the things we needed and headed downstairs. Mrs. Weasley would likely make breakfast for us before we left for King's Cross. On our way down the stairs, we ended up meeting up with Fred, George, Harry, and Ron on the staircase. They all looked tired from what I assumed was a long night. I had been with Harry and Ron until late in the evening helping them pack. We were all tired. I glanced up as Fred and George fell into step with me. They both ruffled my hair as they walked past. I rolled my eyes, shoving them off of me.

"What the hell?" I hissed, shoving the two of them ahead of me down the stairs. "Can't I have a second of peace around you two?"

Fred turned back and grinned. "It's like you don't know us at all, Tara."

"Trust me, I know you both a little bit more than I would like to admit," I growled.

"Don't be rude, Tara," George said, turning back.

"Say the two who just attempted to throw me down the stairs," I snapped.

"Don't be overly dramatic," Fred said.

As soon as the two of them weren't paying attention, I was going to punch the two of them as hard as I could. They were walking nightmares. In the meantime, they knew that it was coming and I couldn't punch them yet. So, I settled for rolling my eyes and whacking them over the back of the heads again. Fred and George laughed at me before turning around and whacking me back - Fred hit me in the stomach and George punched me in the arm. We all exchanged a few more kicks before heading back down the stairs a little more peacefully.

Mostly because we were too tired to do anything else. But, as soon as I got the chance, I was going to punch them as hard as I could. The two of them were annoying as hell. But I wouldn't trade them for the life of me. Hermione and Ginny were finishing packing upstairs. They would be down for breakfast in a few minutes. Harry, Ron, Fred, George, and I had just reached the first-floor landing on our way down to breakfast, when Mrs. Weasley appeared at the foot of the stairs, looking harassed.

"Arthur!" she called up the staircase. "Arthur! Urgent message from the Ministry!"

My eyebrow quirked slightly. What urgent message could there have possibly been? I was absolutely certain that it wasn't anything that urgent. The Ministry liked to make a mountain out of a molehill. Harry flattened himself against the wall and pulled me with him as Mr. Weasley came clattering past with his robes put on back-to-front and hurtled out of sight. He must have been extremely out of it with the disaster after the Death Eater attack. When we all finally entered the kitchen, we saw Mrs. Weasley rummaging anxiously in the drawers.

"What do you think it is?" I whispered to Harry.

"Don't know," Harry said.

"I've got a quill here somewhere!" Mrs. Weasley called.

There must have been a message from the Ministry. Now I was curious. Ministry workers didn't leave any messages unless something really was urgent. Otherwise, they would just pop over and say something. I darted down the stairs, extremely curious as to what was going on and if my parents were at all involved. As we finally wandered downstairs, I saw that Mr. Weasley bending over the fire. He was talking to... my boyfriend's father, I thought it was. I saw Harry shut his eyes hard and open them again, probably trying to make sure that they were working properly.

Communication by fire wasn't very common but it was the most similar to using a telephone for Muggles. I really wished that they would just use those. They were much easier. As I walked up, I realized that I was right. Amos Diggory's head was sitting in the middle of the flames like a large, bearded egg. There was no sign that Cedric was anywhere near the fireplace. Mr. Diggory's head was talking very fast, completely unperturbed by the sparks flying around it and the flames licking its ears.

Harry was staring at the fireplace like he had lost his mind. "Don't worry, that's supposed to be happening," I explained to him. "It's kind of like their way of using a telephone. Amos Diggory is currently leaning over his own fireplace back home."

"Honestly, I can't believe things still surprise me," Harry said humorlessly.

"Exactly," I said, nudging him teasingly. "They're using the Floo network."

"Weird," Harry muttered.

It had never been a preferred method of communication in my household. My parents were much more progressive. They actually liked using a telephone. "Yeah... I've never been fond of that one. I used to try and look into the flames of a real fire when I was little. Almost burned my hands a few times. Eventually, Mom and Dad had to stop using the fireplace," I explained.

Harry snorted in amusement. "Brilliant, Tara."

"You set a python on your cousin. Shut up," I snapped, shoving him away.

We had both done stupid things over the years. Many times were in the presence of each other. In the meantime, Mr. Diggory's head continued talking to Mr. Weasley. "... Muggle neighbors heard bangs and shouting, so they went and called those what-d'you-call-'ems - please-men. Arthur, you've got to get over there -"

"Here!" Mrs. Weasley said breathlessly, pushing a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a crumpled quill into Mr. Weasley's hands.

"- it's a real stroke of luck I heard about it," Mr. Diggory's head continued. "I had to come into the office early to send a couple of owls, and I found the Improper Use of Magic lot all setting off - if Rita Skeeter gets hold of this one, Arthur -"

"What does Mad-Eye say happened?" Mr. Weasley asked, unscrewing the ink bottle, loading up his quill, and preparing to take notes.

Mad-Eye Moody? I wasn't even aware that he was still active with the Ministry. Mr. Diggory's head rolled its eyes. "Says he heard an intruder in his yard. Says he was creeping toward the house but was ambushed by his dustbins."

"What did the dustbins do?" Mr. Weasley asked, scribbling frantically.

"Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, as far as I can tell," Mr. Diggory said. "Apparently one of them was still rocketing around when the please-men turned up -"

Mr. Weasley groaned. "And what about the intruder?"

"Arthur, you know Mad-Eye," Mr. Diggory's head said, rolling its eyes again. "Someone creeping into his yard in the dead of night? More likely there's a very shell-shocked cat wandering around somewhere, covered in potato peelings. But if the Improper Use of Magic lot gets their hands on Mad-Eye, he's had it - think of his record - we've got to get him off on a minor charge, something in your department - what are exploding dustbins worth?"

"Might be a caution," Mr. Weasley said, still writing very fast, his brow furrowed. "Mad-Eye didn't use his wand? He didn't actually attack anyone?"

"I'll bet he leaped out of bed and started jinxing everything he could reach through the window, but they'll have a job proving it, there aren't any casualties," Mr. Diggory said.

"All right, I'm off," Mr. Weasley said.

If they were bringing Mad-Eye Moody into the picture, things must have been much worse than I had thought that they were. Mad-Eye barely even left his house anymore. If they were talking to him about everything, they were getting desperate. I turned back to Mr. Weasley long enough to see him stuff the parchment with his notes on it into his pocket and dash out of the kitchen again. Harry looked quite confused about their conversation - as he usually did about these things.

"Who's Mad-Eye?" Harry asked.

"Alastor Moody. He's one of the most famous Auror's ever. He was a pivotal member of their force during the Wizarding War. He gained himself quite a considerable reputation, as well as losing an eye, leg, and part of his nose while fighting. He's responsible for most of the inhabited cells in Azkaban with how many Dark Wizards and Witches he's caught. It was great for us, but as a result, Moody became overly-cautious and paranoid about his security. Got him the nickname Mad-Eye," I told him.

Harry nodded blankly. "Why 'Eye,' though?"

"He's got a magical eye that rolls around in its socket," I said. Harry's eyes almost shot out of their sockets. I snorted under my breath. "I've seen Mad-Eye a few times. Trust me, you'll know who he is without having to ask if you ever see him."

"Have you ever talked to him?" Harry asked.

"No. My parents didn't want him scaring me. Probably for the best. Mad-Eye's a legend, but he's also nuts," I said.

Mad-Eye had been at the Magical Congress a few times when I was younger but Mom and Dad would always send me off whenever he dropped by. Apparently, he wasn't very good with children. Now that I was older though, I really wanted to meet him. He seemed so fascinating and he was a complete legend in the Wizarding World. But I also knew that he couldn't really talk about the Wizarding War. He had a pretty bad form of post-traumatic stress disorder. In the meantime, Mr. Diggory's head looked around at Mrs. Weasley.

"Sorry about this, Molly, bothering you so early and everything... but Arthur's the only one who can get Mad-Eye off, and Mad-Eye's supposed to be starting his new job today," Mr. Diggory said, more calmly this time. I stared at them curiously. Mad-Eye hadn't had a real job since the Wizarding War had ended. "Why he had to choose last night..."

"New job?" Harry asked, clearly as curious as I was.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "Mad-Eye hasn't really worked in years."

"Never mind, Amos. Sure you won't have a bit of toast or anything before you go?" Mr. Weasley offered amicably.

"Oh go on, then," Mr. Diggory said.

It would always be impossible for me to understand how you could give someone something through a fireplace. Even being a Pureblood, I really didn't understand so much of the Wizarding World. I shifted a little further into the living room. I could barely hear some rummaging around in the background. I assumed that Cedric was finishing getting ready to head to King's Cross. Mrs. Weasley took a piece of buttered toast from a stack on the kitchen table, put it into the fire tongs, and transferred it into Mr. Diggory's mouth.

Still weird... "Fanks," Mr. Diggory said in a muffled voice, and then, with a small pop, vanished.

Harry looked over at me and I shook my head. Sometimes it was for the best to not ask what was going on. Harry shook his head as if to clear his head from what had just happened, before dragging me over to the kitchen with him. As we closed in on the kitchen I could hear Mr. Weasley calling hurried goodbyes to Bill, Charlie, Percy, and the girls. Apparently, they had finally gotten their things together. Within five minutes, Mr. Weasley was back in the kitchen, his robes on the right way now, dragging a comb through his hair.

"I'd better hurry - you have a good term, boys," Mr. Weasley said to Harry, Ron, and the twins, fastening a cloak over his shoulders and preparing to Disapparate. "Molly, are you going to be all right taking the kids to King's Cross?"

"Of course I will," Mrs. Weasley told him. "You just look after Mad-Eye, we'll be fine."

"Bye, Mr. Weasley," I said, giving him a bright smile.

"Goodbye, kids," Mr. Weasley called to everyone else.

We all said goodbye one more time before he turned and Disapparated. I was grateful that I would get some time to see Mom and Dad before heading off to Hogwarts. I felt like I had barely seen them for the last two weeks. Much due in part to their high-rankings in the Ministry. I was lucky that I had even seen them as much as I had for the end of the summer. There was a loud crack and, as Mr. Weasley vanished, Bill and Charlie entered the kitchen. They were the last two to arrive for breakfast.

"Did someone say Mad-Eye?" Bill asked. "What's he been up to now?"

"He says someone tried to break into his house last night," Mrs. Weasley said.

"He always does," I pointed out.

"Mad-Eye Moody?" George asked thoughtfully, spreading marmalade on his toast. "Isn't he that nutter -"

"Your father thinks very highly of Mad-Eye Moody," Mrs. Weasley said sternly.

Mad-Eye Moody was definitely a nutter. Although I did enjoy listening to stories about him. "Everyone thinks highly of Mad-Eye but he's still nuts," I said quietly, half-hoping that Mrs. Weasley wouldn't hear me.

Thankfully, she didn't. "Yeah, well, Dad collects plugs, doesn't he?" Fred said quietly as Mrs. Weasley left the room. I snorted at him. "Birds of a feather..."

"Oh, come on. Mad-Eye's a little scary but he's cool," I told Fred. He stared at me. "He was one of the best Auror's ever."

"Dad still collects plugs," Fred pointed out.

Wizards were complete morons. They were interesting with their inventions but they made things way more complicated than they needed to be. "Well... wizards thought that traveling by flimsy broomsticks and smashing through fireplaces was a better way to travel than by... you know... cars," I pointed out. Fred hummed his agreement, looking surprised at my comment. "We all have oddities about ourselves."

"You love flying," Fred said.

"Yes, I do. When I'm playing Quidditch. But I definitely like traveling in cars for regular travel a little more. At least I might not fall a thousand feet to my death if I make a wrong move," I told him.

"But you could drive head-on into traffic," Fred said.

"Stop arguing with me this early in the morning," I snapped.

"You know you're losing," Fred teased.

He might have been right about that, but I wasn't planning on ever admitting it. "Just wait until you need someone to handle your finances at Weasley Wizard Wheezes. You'll never know when I might make a little mistake on the financial calculations," I warned him.

Fred scowled. "Pitch you over the edge of your Astronomy Tower, I will."

There was something in his voice - and in his comment - that struck me as funny. I had never mentioned the Astronomy Tower meetups with Cedric to him. But did he know about them? "What do you mean -?"

"Moody was a great wizard in his time," Bill said, interrupting our conversation.

"He's an old friend of Dumbledore's, isn't he?" Charlie asked.

Considering Dumbledore was a prominent fighter in the Wizarding War and well over one hundred-years-old, most people knew him. "Pretty sure everyone's an old friend of Dumbledore's," I pointed out.

"Dumbledore's not what you'd call normal, though, is he?" Fred asked. I laughed. Dumbledore was anything but normal. "I mean, I know he's a genius and everything..."

"Who is Mad-Eye?" Harry asked.

"Don't trust my opinion on him?" I teased.

Harry motioned discreetly over to Hermione, who looked quite confused. I knew that she never wanted to admit that she didn't know something. "Who is he?" Hermione whispered to Ginny.

"He's retired, used to work at the Ministry," Charlie answered Harry. "I met him once when Dad took me into work with him. He was an Auror - one of the best..."

Harry was giving a blank look. Did he really not even know what an Auror was? He was the most clueless person I'd ever met. "Honestly, Harry. Have you ever listened in any of our classes?" I groaned.

"A Dark wizard catcher," Charlie explained, also seeing Harry's blank look. "Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him. He made himself loads of enemies, though... the families of people he caught, mainly... and I heard he's been getting really paranoid in his old age. Doesn't trust anyone anymore. Sees Dark wizards everywhere."

"That's half the reason his house is booby-trapped to all hell," I added.

"Is it?" Charlie asked curiously.

"Last Dad told me, he almost lost a toe from one of his traps when he went over and tried to reassure Mad-Eye that his house wasn't being broken into by Death Eaters," I explained.

"When was that?" Bill asked.

"Last week," I answered. "Apparently he's been even worse since the World Cup."

Everyone laughed quietly. "That ought to be eventful," Charlie snorted.

Calls into the Ministry would likely get even worse from Mad-Eye. He used to call once a month. Now he seemed to be calling twice a week. Dad said that Mad-Eye really needed to get a new job to keep himself occupied. Apparently, he had managed to go out and get himself one. When Mrs. Weasley came back to the kitchen we quickly moved on from talking about Mad-Eye to the start of the new year. Bill and Charlie decided to come and see everyone off at King's Cross station, but Percy, apologizing most profusely, said that he really needed to get to work.

"I just can't justify taking more time off at the moment," he told us.

"You're not even going to come and say goodbye to your siblings?" I asked disbelievingly.

He might not have gotten along wonderfully with his siblings, but literally, everyone else was going. Save Mr. Weasley, who couldn't afford to take off after his mistake. "Mr. Crouch is really starting to rely on me," Percy told me as if that changed things.

"Yeah, you know what, Percy?" George said seriously. "I reckon he'll know your name soon."

For a moment I had thought that George was actually going to be nice. But I should have known better. So, I snorted in amusement. As did the rest of the family. I really did love when the twins harassed their older brother. Actually, I enjoyed when everyone harassed Percy. He was way too big-headed. Especially for a family like the Weasley's. As much as I did like Percy sometimes, I wished that he would get a sense of humor and interact with his family more often. They loved him. He just couldn't see it.

We were midway through breakfast when Harry turned to me and said, "Where are your parents?"

"They're meeting us at the platform to say goodbye," I told him.

They had promised that they would meet us on the platform and hang around for at least a few minutes to say goodbye. They had wanted to stop by last night but hadn't gotten the chance. Apparently, they hadn't gotten back home since midnight. That was what they had said to me in their letter last night. At least when we were on the platform today I could trust that I wouldn't have to worry about any conversation with Cedric. Although, I had warned him to continue avoiding showing any affection for me beyond a hug or hand-hold. It was baby steps.

We all ate our breakfasts quickly - a meager few slices of toast and sausages - before moving our things out into the yard. Bill and Charlie made a good help getting the bags and boxes and trunks. I supposed that she knew that we would all start buying candy and snacks off of the candy cart on the Hogwarts Express. For our trip, Mrs. Weasley had braved the telephone in the village post office to order three ordinary Muggle taxis to take us into London. I was almost impressed that someone in the family knew how to use a Muggle telephone.

It was about an hour later that we were finally ready to leave. "Arthur tried to borrow Ministry cars for us," Mrs. Weasley whispered to Harry and I as we stood in the rain-washed yard, watching the taxi drivers heaving seven heavy Hogwarts trunks into their cars. "But there weren't any to spare."

As she walked off, I leaned over to Harry. "Hmm... Wonder why they wouldn't want Mr. Weasley using Ministry cars when the last one is still currently making the Forbidden Forest its home?" I whispered.

"In retrospect, we probably should have just waited," Harry replied.

"I should kill you. Whose fault was that entire thing?" I snapped.

"Dobby's," Harry answered.

Was he kidding? Dobby might have sealed the barrier, but Ron and Harry had been the two to come up with the harebrained idea to fly the Anglia to Hogwarts. "Yours, you moron!" I snapped as Ron walked up to us. "You two wanted to go take the car and go to Hogwarts. If you had just listened to me we would still have the Ford Anglia."

Ron rolled his eyes. "We fly the car into a tree one time and you never let us forget it."

"It's was a Whomping Willow!" I snapped.

"Note that we're still alive," Ron pointed out.

"No thanks to the two of you, mind you," I hissed.

That was definitely not something that I would forget anytime soon. Neither would the Whomping Willow. I swore that it still held a grudge against us after the crash at the beginning of Second Year. The tree certainly had tried its damnedest to kill us when we had run past it to try and get to the entrance of the Shrieking Shack at the end of last year. The Whomping Willow didn't really like anyone but it definitely held a grudge against the three of us more than anyone else.

"Oh dear, they don't look happy, do they?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking at the Muggle taxi drivers, having walked back toward us.

"Those poor men," I muttered.

Those trunks had to weigh as much as we did. Not only that, but we had way too many things to fit into the taxis. It would be a tight squeeze. I decided that it wouldn't make much sense to tell Mrs. Weasley that Muggle taxi drivers rarely transported overexcited owls, and Pigwidgeon was making an earsplitting racket. Nor did it help that a number of Filibuster's Fabulous No-Heat, Wet-Start Fireworks went off unexpectedly when Fred's trunk sprang open, causing the driver carrying it to yell with fright and pain as Crookshanks clawed his way up the man's leg.

All of that only mere minutes into the ride. We hadn't even made it out of the front yard... "Freddie!" I snapped at him.

He was sitting just in front of me. He turned back, looking more concerned for his lost fireworks than he was for the man's leg and well-being. "It was an accident!" Fred whisper-yelled back.

"That poor man is never going to forget this," I groaned, looking up at the panicking Muggle.

"We've made an interesting trip for him," Fred said.

"Not interesting, Freddie. Annoying," I corrected.

Fred smiled and jumped into the backseat with us. Since he was so tall, his attempt to get into the seat with us wasn't easy. He was hitting himself on the roof of the car and crushing us in the process. I whacked him on the back as he shoved Harry out of the way. Ron hopped into the front seat to make some room in the back for Fred. The poor Muggle taxi driver looked like he was going to lose his mind in between the kids switching seats in the middle of the ride and the monstrous animals. The constant noise and attacking. 

"You get to spend an entire year in close quarters with me, too," Fred said, finally settling himself into the spot next to me, in between Harry. "Aren't you excited?"

"Somehow I doubt this is going to just be for a year. I get the feeling that I'm going to be stuck with you forever," I groaned playfully.

Fred smiled. "Correct you are."

"Lucky me," I moaned.

"Aren't you?" Fred teased.

Needless to say, Fred was one of the most annoying people in the world. But I wouldn't have traded him for the entire world - as much as I might have wanted to sometimes. We both laughed as Fred leaned over and wrapped an arm across my shoulders. I smiled gently as I tucked my head into his shoulder. I was still extremely tired from the night before and I typically used Fred as a pillow whenever I was tired. He was one of the most comfortable people I knew. But my nap on Fred's shoulder was short-lived.

This wasn't a normal nap on the couch of the Common Room or on the floor of the Burrow living room. This was cramped and hot. The journey was uncomfortable, owing to the fact that we were jammed in the back of the taxis with our trunks. It was one of the most uncomfortable positions I had ever managed to find myself in. Crookshanks took quite a while to recover from the fireworks, and by the time we finally entered London over an hour later, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were all severely scratched. Somehow Fred had managed to come out mostly unscathed.

"I hate that cat, Hermione," I groaned, pulling into King's Cross station.

"Agreed," Harry and Ron said together.

Hermione looked quite affronted as she asked, "What's wrong with Crookshanks?"

"Would you like to see the scars?" I offered, tugging up my sleeve.

It wasn't just from today. Crookshanks had left many bites and scratches on me before that. "It's because Crookshanks knows that you hate him!" Hermione gasped. "If you would just be nice to him -"

"He started it! The only reason I haven't offered him as a treat to Dai is because he..." I trailed off the moment that I remembered that the others didn't know about Pettigrew and what had happened last year. They were all looking at us curiously. I forced myself to swallow thickly and change subjects. "You know what? Never mind."

"What was that about?" Fred asked.

"Mind your business," I snapped.

The last thing that I needed was for everyone else to realize that Peter Pettigrew had been the one who had killed those twelve Muggles all those years ago. It would come out someday, but on a normal ride to King's Cross wasn't the right time. Fred glared at me - probably annoyed that I wouldn't tell him the truth - and whacked me over the back of the head. I scowled as I ducked down. It was one of his favorite comebacks whenever I annoyed him. I reached out and shoved him ahead of me. He laughed as he stumbled into the street.

It was needless to say that we were all very relieved to get out at King's Cross, even though the rain was coming down harder than ever. It had only been a light drizzle when we had left Ottery St. Catchpole in the morning. It was now a full-on downpour. Just what I wanted to start off the year... We got soaked carrying our trunks across the busy road and into the station. I shook out my hair and dropped my things onto one of the trolleys, heading off toward Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, determined to have a normal year this time.

As our large group waltzed onto the platform I glanced around and smiled. There were a number of people from Hogwarts milling around the platform. Which made sense. I always saw Hogwarts students hanging around on the platform. As usual, we didn't talk to each other. It was mostly to avoid alerting the Muggles as to why there were so many kids who all seemed to know each other. It was kind of the unspoken rule. Wait until you're on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters to speak to each other. As we came closer to the barrier, I noticed my parents milling around, waiting for us.

"Good to see that you all got here in a timely manner," Mom teased as I walked up to her.

"You're that faithless in us?" I asked huffily.

Mom smiled. "I know how hard it is to wake you up before the crack of noon."

"Hah-hah," I snapped. I'd gotten used to Hermione waking me up at eight in the morning while we were at Hogwarts. "I'm not that bad."

"No. Jules, I think she's made it to eleven by now. Let's give the girl a break," Dad said, grinning at us.

Not even together for sixty seconds and they were already making fun of me. "You two should have stayed at the Ministry if you were just going to be rude to me," I growled, folding my arms over my chest.

"It's called honesty, Tara," Dad teased.

Here it comes... "Go on. Make the obvious joke," I snapped.

Dad shook his head. "Can't do that. It would be too obvious."

"Wouldn't we all just hate that?" I said.

All three of us laughed. At least he wasn't going to mention my slight (extreme dishonesty) about my relationship with Cedric. Mom glanced around the crowded platform before looking back at me. "Where's Cedric?" she asked.

"He said that he would be somewhere on the platform," I told her, looking around. I couldn't see him yet. But he was usually earlier than I was. "If I don't see him there I'm sure he'll be somewhere on the train."

"Because some people don't go to school in a flying car," Dad said.

"Some people don't know how to have a good time," I replied.

Dad laughed but Mom looked like she was about to strangle me. "If I get one letter saying that you've found a hidden chamber or flown a car into the Whomping Willow or -"

"Jules, Jules, honestly, we could be going at this all day if you list the illegal things the kids have ever done," Dad said, trying to calm her down.

My jaw dropped. Did we really do that many illegal things? I didn't think so. "Oh, come on! We're not that bad!" I snapped. Dad rolled his eyes as Mom let out a humorless laugh. "You two must have done some horrible things when you were in Hogwarts."

"No," Dad said quickly.

Mom immediately turned to him and narrowed her eyes. "Even I'll admit that that's a complete lie," she said. Dad huffed at her as I laughed. "How many times did you and your friends get yourself into trouble?"

"Not as much as this one," Dad told her, motioning to me. "Two hundred and five points? That was a good one, Tara."

"I told you! We were trying to protect Hagrid!" I snapped.

"That was a very honorable thing that you did," Mom said, placing her hand on my shoulder. "You got it from your father."

"Just work on not getting caught, yeah?" Dad teased.

"Marcus!" Mom yelled.

"Just kidding," Dad said, smiling at me. "Stop breaking the rules."

"Yeah, sure," I chuckled.

They both knew that there was no way I was going to stop breaking the rules. There was no way. Not with Harry in my life. Not to mention my own love of mischief. We all laughed as we walked a little further into the station, catching up with Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley's. As we walked, I tried to find Cedric but it was an impossible task in the crowded station. It was way too hard to find anyone. I figured that I would eventually manage to find him on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

We were all was used to getting onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters by now. Unlike Ilvermorny - where students were asked to travel using Muggle transportation to the school - Hogwarts had a much more complicated process of getting to the campus. For someone familiar with the process, it was easy. It was a simple matter of walking straight through the apparently solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. The only tricky part was doing that in an unobtrusive way, so as to avoid attracting Muggle attention.

We all did it in groups today; Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I (the most conspicuous, since we were accompanied by Pigwidgeon, Crookshanks, and Dai) went first; we leaned casually against the barrier, chatting unconcernedly, and slid sideways through it. Sometimes I was tempted to let one of the Muggles see us slip through a solid brick wall but I knew that I would get in a ton of trouble if I did that. As we did so, Platform Nine and Three-Quarters materialized in front of us and I smiled.

The Hogwarts Express, a gleaming scarlet steam engine, was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it, through which the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghosts. I smiled, glad to finally be on our way to the castle. Pigwidgeon became noisier than ever in response to the hooting of many owls through the mist. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I set off to find seats and were soon stowing our luggage in a compartment halfway along the train. We hopped back down onto the platform to say good-bye to Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, and my parents.

We were just a few minutes out from when the train would depart. "Please don't get expelled," Mom begged, pulling me into a hug.

"Mom!" I yelped, pulling out of her grip.

"Have a little faith in the girl, Jules," Dad said.

"I have plenty of faith in her. But I also know who her father is," Mom told Dad, smiling at him. I rolled my eyes at them. Gross... She then turned to look at me. Actually, she was looking over my head. "Looks like you have a visitor."

"Huh?" I asked blankly, turning back toward where she was looking. Immediately I caught sight of Cedric walking over to us. "Hi."

Cedric smiled, pulling me into a hug. "Expect we won't be seeing you fly a car into the Whomping Willow this year, then?" he asked.

How boring would that be? We couldn't be a repeat act. That would have made it look like we were running out of ideas. "Oh, never say never. But we can't keep doing the same thing over and over again. We have to keep trying for new things or else everyone gets bored," I teased, gently whacking him on the chest. "We have to do the unexpected, Cedric."

"Unexpected..." Cedric said thoughtfully. "Manage to graduate and not get expelled?"

"See?" Mom said, looking back at me. "It's not just me."

"Oh, you're both hilarious," I snapped.

Cedric smiled and walked over to Mom. She pulled him into a hug. "Good to see you, Mrs. Nox," Cedric said.

"You as well, Cedric," she said.

"Hi Mr. Nox," Cedric greeted, reaching out to shake his hand.

"Cedric," Dad greeted. Surprisingly enough, he was smiling at him. "Ready for a new year?"

"Yeah, I am. I'll be taking Alchemy this year," Cedric said.

"Will you?" Dad asked. Cedric nodded. "Jules wanted to take that in her Sixth Year."

In two years I was going to try and take Alchemy. It sounded so cool. "Not enough demand for it in my time, I'm afraid," Mom told Cedric. I raised a brow. There had to be a demand for Alchemy for the school to offer it? "You'll have to let me know next summer how the class treated you."

"It'll be my pleasure," Cedric told her.

She smiled at him again before turning back to me. "No letters home about anything illegal, you hear me?" Mom warned.

"Yes," I said.

"Doubt she'll have time this year," Dad said, grinning at her.

Huh? "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked sharply.

"You'll see," all three of them said.

More about this stupid thing that was happening at Hogwarts that no one would tell me about. "Okay, I should have never let the three of you get to know each other. I'll be regretting that one forever," I groaned. All three of them smiled at each other. "On that note, I think I'll head to the train."

They were all still laughing as I went to walk away. They were such nightmares. All three of them. Mom and Dad always did everything possible to embarrass me and Cedric wouldn't tell me the truth of what was happening at Hogwarts. Useless people. I'd gotten a few feet away from them when I remembered that I had just left Cedric alone with my parents. My stomach churned in knots slightly. The last thing I needed to do was leave him alone with them. That could definitely end badly for everyone involved.

Stopping dead in my tracks, I turned back and ran after Cedric, grabbing his wrist and pulling him with me. "On second thought, you come with me," I said, dragging him ahead.

There was absolutely no way that I was going to leave Cedric with my parents. They were definitely going to ruin things. Either tell embarrassing stories or learn way too much about my nights in the Astronomy Tower. Thankfully they thought it was funny. Everyone laughed as my parents followed us back toward the train. I smiled as Cedric laced our fingers together. I could hear Dad complaining about us as we walked off. But I also heard Mom tell him to be quiet. I was extremely grateful that the feud between us all was finally over.

"Where are your parents?" I asked Cedric.

Mr. Diggory had seemed busy for work in the fireplace earlier, but I didn't see anyone who looked like she would have been Cedric's mother. "They both said goodbye at the house," Cedric said. I frowned. His parents weren't even going to come to say goodbye for five minutes? Even my parents had shown up. "They're at the Ministry right now. They couldn't get away from work."

"Oh," I said dumbly. "That's too bad."

He smiled at me. "It's alright, Tara. I got my chance to say goodbye. Oh, but my mother did ask if you would come over for dinner one night over the summer," Cedric said, his voice brightening slightly. Having not been expecting that one, I managed to stupidly trip up over my feet, almost smashing my chin on the pavement. Cedric caught me at the last second. "Are you alright?"

"What?" I asked him blankly. Meeting Cedric's mother was never something I had imagined. I mean, I'd figured that it was coming but I had never really thought it would come. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. No, that'd be really... nice. I've known you for years and we're dating now yet I've never met your mother. For a few years, I thought she was dead, as a matter of fact. Yeah, that'll be great."

Cedric smiled at me. "Are you nervous?"

For as many parents as I'd met before, I had never met a boyfriend's mother. It seemed... intense. "Honestly, a little bit," I said awkwardly. "I've... I don't know. I mean, your dad is nice and all but your mom -"

"Is a human being who has heard nothing but good things about you," Cedric interrupted politely. "She's nothing to be afraid of. I promise."

"What if she doesn't like me?" I asked nervously.

Cedric smiled. "It's impossible not to."

"Ask Malfoy," I said.

"I suppose that I should have clarified that I only meant people who counted," Cedric countered.

At least I wasn't the only person who thought that Malfoy's opinion of me didn't count. I laughed loudly and threw my head back as we headed back toward the train. My parents were following closely behind us. The others all began saying goodbye to each other as the train whistle blew, warning us that the Hogwarts Express was about to take off. I smiled as some of my friends moved off to take their seats on the train. I was standing up against the pillar near one of the doors to the train.

"I'll let you say goodbye to your friends now," Cedric said, smiling at me.

"Okay." He went to move off when I remembered something. "Oh, wait!" I yelled, grabbing Cedric's hand and pulling him back to me. "Will you tell me what's going on at Hogwarts now?"

"No," Cedric said.

Traitor... "Never mind then. Go away," I snapped.

Just because no one would tell me what was going on, now I was actually curious about what was happening. But they apparently weren't going to tell me. Cedric laughed at my annoyance as I shoved him away from me. He stopped just long enough to give my mother a brief hug and shake my father's hand. I rolled my eyes as they warned me to be nice to him. He gave me a quick grin before heading back into the train with his friends. I knew that I would see him a little bit later. After I got over the fact that he wouldn't tell me what was going on.

"Be good," Mom warned, walking up to me.

"Don't get expelled," Dad added.

So, not only did I need the warning to be good now, but I also needed one to keep me from getting expelled. "Astounding, the faith you have in your own child," I growled, staring at them.

"It's only because you are our child that we know the trouble you can get into," Mom said.

"Relax, I'll be fine," I said.

Did I really get myself in that much trouble? I didn't think that I was that bad. "Doubt you'll have the time to get in trouble," Dad said, smiling playfully at me.

If no one would tell me what was going on, I wasn't going to hang around here. "On that note, I think I'll be gone," I said huffily.

They both laughed again but I was definitely serious about that one. I didn't want to be with them if they weren't going to tell me what was going on at school. I was finally sick of not knowing what it was. I stayed at their sides long enough to give them both tight hugs. As much as they annoyed me sometimes, I still loved them both desperately. I really did miss them when I was away at school. I just hoped that we would all be able to spend more time together next summer.

As I pulled away from Mom, I smiled at them again. "We'll be home more next summer. Promise," Dad said.

"I'll be counting on it. As lame as it might sound, I really do miss you guys while I'm at school," I said.

They both looked quite surprised that I had admitted to missing them. "Oh, sweetheart," Mom whispered.

The moment that I'd said it, I realized that I probably shouldn't have. She moved forward and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug. I opened my mouth to take it back when Dad yelled, "You already said it, you can't take it back!"

"Wonderful," I groaned.

We all laughed again. "Come on," Mom said, finally releasing me. "Let's get you on the train."

The train whistle blew, letting us know that the train was about to depart from the station. All of the kids all over the station began making their way to the train. We walked back over to where the Weasley's, Harry, and Hermione were standing. Hermione had already said goodbye to her parents just before coming to the Burrow for the Quidditch World Cup. I was a little surprised to hear that they weren't coming to see her off but I knew that she would write to them. I smiled at the others and walked into the middle of the group of Weasley's.

"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," Charlie said, grinning, as he hugged Ginny good-bye.

"Why?" Fred asked keenly.

"You'll see," Charlie said.

Just like my parents and Cedric, now Charlie wouldn't tell us what was happening at Hogwarts. "Another person who still won't tell us what's going on," I groaned, crossing my arms.

"Do you know what's going on?" Fred asked me.

"All I know is that it has nothing to do with Quidditch," I told him.

Fred's brows knitted crossly. "What's the fun in that?"

"Exactly," I said.

"Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it... it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all," Charlie continued.

"If Percy cares anything about it, I'm sure it's lame," I huffed.

Everyone snorted in amusement. I would never admit it in front of Percy, but it actually seemed kind of interesting. It had to be since all of the Wizarding World seemed to be thrilled about whatever event Hogwarts was having this year. "Yeah, I sort of wish I was back at Hogwarts this year," Bill said, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.

"Why?" George asked impatiently.

"You're going to have an interesting year," Bill said inconclusively, his eyes twinkling. I rolled my eyes. That still wasn't an answer. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it."

"A bit of what?" Ron asked.

That was when something struck me as interesting about his comment. "Watch it? Is it a competition?" I asked.

Bill turned and smiled. "I've got a feeling you probably know what it is, Tara."

"I do?" I asked dumbly.

Dad smiled and whacked Bill on the back amicably. "Watch it, Bill. You wouldn't want your brother finding out that you've given away 'classified information' from the Ministry," he said.

Bill smiled guiltily. "Right you are, Marcus. We'll be seeing you all soon. You can write in the meantime."

The others looked furious that they wouldn't tell us what was going on. I was halfway tempted to follow Cedric around the train until he told me what was going on. But I had a feeling he would just hex me if I did that. I thought about asking Mom and Dad again, but at that moment, the whistle blew. I would have to get someone on the train to tell me now. Mrs. Weasley chivvied us toward the train doors. Fred and George were still complaining at their older brothers. We climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to the others.

"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said.

"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley," Harry added.

"We had a ton of fun. Thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley.," I chirped.

"Oh it was my pleasure, dears," Mrs. Weasley said fondly. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but... well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with... one thing and another."

Huh? The others looked about confused as I was. "Mum!" Ron bellowed irritably. "What do you three know that we don't?"

"They all know about it, Ron," I said, pointing to my own parents.

That only served to make Ron even more cross. "You'll find out this evening, I expect," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting - mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules -"

"What rules?" Harry, Ron, Fred, and George asked together.

That was when it dawned on me. Was Bill right? Did I know what they were talking about? I thought that they were talking about some kind of competition. But I hadn't heard about it in years. It had been eradicated forever ago. My idea might have been a little bit farfetched - seeing as the competition had long been illegal because of all of the deaths attributed to it - but I also had an inkling that I might have been right. If anyone liked danger, it was Dumbledore. Plus, it explained why my parents thought it was great. They had always loved the idea of it.

"Hang on," I said, far too impatient to wait until tonight to find out if I was right. "Are you all talking about the T -"

"No!" everyone on the platform yelled together.

So, I was definitely right. "Okay... Weirdos..." I muttered.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling pleasantly at us. "Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?"

That was just about one of the funniest jokes I'd ever heard. The very thought of Fred and George trying to behave themselves was definitely humorous. The two of them wouldn't know good behavior if it bit them on the ass. I snorted under my breath as I leaned back out of the window to hug my parents goodbye. The others did the same with Mrs. Weasley, who was still scolding Fred and George. But we all knew that they wouldn't ever genuinely behave. At that moment, the pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move.

"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Fred bellowed out of the window as Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from us. "What rules are they changing?"

But Mrs. Weasley only smiled and waved. So did the others. There was no way that they were ever going to tell us. I couldn't help but wonder how many people on the train actually knew what was happening at the school this year. It couldn't have been that many. If it was, I knew that it would spread all over the students well before we arrived at Hogwarts. Before the Hogwarts Express had rounded the corner out of King's Cross, Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Mom, and Dad had Disapparated. Most of them back to work.

The moment that they were out of sight, Fred turned back to me. "Do you know what it is?" he asked.

"I'm starting to think that I might," I admitted.

"What is it?" Fred asked eagerly.

Snorting under my breath, I shook my head. "Yeah, right. If I had to suffer without knowing the truth, so do you," I told him. Fred looked as though I had just punched him in the face. "Plus, I don't even know if I'm right. I don't want to hear about it for the next month I'm wrong."

"Tell me!" Fred barked.

At this point, I wasn't going to tell him just because it was funny to watch him struggle. "No!" I shouted back. Fred scowled at me. "You're a Pureblood, figure it out yourself. I guarantee you already know what it is."

Fred scowled again. "Prat."

That's nice. "Thanks," I hissed.

Fred grinned at me playfully and leaned down to press a kiss against my temple. I rolled my eyes and shoved him away from me. That didn't excuse calling me a prat, although I'd definitely heard much worse. Fred really was a complete pain in the ass. But I wouldn't trade him for the entire world. He had long since been one of my best friends. He gathered his things and headed off with George and Lee - who had shown up as the train departed. I assumed that they were going to talk about the joke shop progress over the summer. I supposed that I would talk to them about it later.

Once the twins had taken off, we did the same. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I went back to our compartment. The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them. I frowned. The rides were always nicer when it was sunny. I didn't like the rain. It reminded me of our last train ride in which Dementors had come aboard the train and tried to perform the Kiss on me. As I stared out the window, Ron undid his trunk, pulled out his maroon dress robes, and flung them over Pigwidgeon's cage to muffle his hooting.

"Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," Ron said grumpily, sitting down next to Harry as Hermione took a spot next to me on the other side of the compartment. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Do you know what it is, Tara?"

"Got a feeling I might," I answered.

"What is it?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Relax. We'll find out tonight. Another few hours won't kill you," I told him.

Ron looked just as aghast that I wouldn't tell him the truth as I had been when Cedric and my parents wouldn't tell me. "That's not fair! We're your friends!" Ron shouted, motioning between himself, Harry, and Hermione.

"So, as my friends, you'll understand that I'm not telling you," I said teasingly.

"Leave her alone, Ron. We'll find out tonight," Hermione said.

That makes things much less amusing... "You're not the slightest bit curious as to what it is?" I asked Hermione.

Hermione nodded. "Of course. But I'm not giving you the satisfaction of getting me to ask when I know you'll be more than happy to tell me no."

I grinned. "Look who's learning how I operate."

We all laughed. "Do you really know what it is?" Harry asked.

Unless I was way over-complicating things, there was only one possible answer. "I have an idea but I'm really not sure. It doesn't seem right. My idea is pretty far-fetched. I'd be surprised if I was right, honestly," I told them. I wanted to be right but it would have been extremely surprising if I was. "I was thinking that it was this thing schools used to do a long time ago."

"What's that mean?" Ron asked sharply.

He was a Pureblood and he still didn't understand it... He had to have heard it from his siblings growing up. "If that didn't give it away, you'll never guess it," I told him honestly.

"Come on, Tara!" Ron whined.

"No," I said firmly.

"She's never going to tell you," Harry told Ron. "What do you think it is?"

"No idea," Ron admitted. "Something dangerous probably. Wonder who else might -"

"Shh!" Hermione whispered suddenly.

We all immediately stopped talking and looked over at her. She was pressing her finger to her lips and pointing toward the compartment next to ours. She had clearly just overheard something that she wanted to hear. Harry, Ron, and I listened, and I immediately heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door that sent my heart plummeting into my stomach. Somehow I supposed I had hoped that he might have fallen into a viper-infested pit over the summer. Wishful thinking, I guessed.

"Oh, joy," I groaned.

"Be quiet!" Hermione hissed.

"... Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore - the man's such a Mudblood lover - and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do..."

Malfoy had almost ended up in Durmstrang. I would have never guessed that he had almost gone there. It was rare that someone from England went to school anywhere but Hogwarts. I wished that he had gone there. It would have made one less thing for me to deal with at school. It was too bad that Mrs. Malfoy had decided to keep him closer to home. Why couldn't they have just moved to Scandinavia to be closer to Durmstrang? Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's still-droning voice.

"So, he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" Hermione asked angrily. She was the only one of us who got genuinely cruel insults hurled at her from Malfoy. "I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."

"You know if Malfoy wasn't here, Zabini would have taken his place," I pointed out.

"Who?" Harry asked blankly.

"Blaise Zabini," I repeated. Harry continued to stare at me. I rolled my eyes. "He's in our year, Harry. He's one of Malfoy's cohorts. Just doesn't listen to him as blindly as Crabbe and Goyle do."

Harry nodded before turning back to Hermione. "Durmstrang's another wizarding school?"

"Yes, and it's got a horrible reputation. According to An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts," Hermione said irritably.

"It's because their Headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, used to be a Death Eater," I explained.

Ron looked unperturbed at the news but Hermione and Harry whipped back around to me. "They put him in charge of a school?" Hermione asked disbelievingly.

He was only one of many accused Death Eaters who went back to normal after Harry's defeat of Voldemort. "It's his school to do with as he pleases. He was of a lot of use to the Ministry after the end of the Wizarding War, calling out other Death Eaters and putting them in Azkaban to keep himself out. Trust me when I say that he's got no favor with them," I told them.

"How do you know that?" Harry asked.

"Mom and Dad told me about him. Ilvermorny teaches all about the other magical schools. We learn about their headmasters and headmistresses," I explained.

Relations with other wizarding schools were much better in the States. Perhaps because the other schools didn't feel threatened by us. Little did they know that we knew the most about all of them. "Do you think he was a Death Eater?" Hermione asked me curiously.

"No one doubts it. We all know he was. He just claims to be reformed," I said.

"People believe that?" Hermione asked disbelievingly.

"Voldemort had actually put some of his followers under the Imperious Curse," I said. Ron twitched at the name. "It meant that a lot of people who had been loyal to him used it as an excuse for their behavior. Since there was no way to prove that it hadn't been used, the Ministry was forced to believe most of them. To be fair to him, he really did help put a lot of truly terrible witches and wizards behind bars. In the end, Karkaroff was just a coward. Much like another friend of ours."

The conversation in the cabin took a sharp dive. Just last year we had met one of Voldemort's followers who had been long believed to be dead. Peter Pettigrew was one of our parents best friends who had been believed to have been killed by Sirius Black - my godfather. As it had turned out, Pettigrew had been the true culprit behind our parents' betrayal and had framed Sirius. While Karkaroff was likely braver than Peter Pettigrew, they were both too cowardly to admit what they had done. I wiped my hands off on my pants, noticing that they had begun to sweat slightly.

You're not going to betray your friends. You love them. Stop being silly. "I think I've heard of Durmstrang," Ron said vaguely. "Where is it? What country?"

"Well, nobody knows, do they?" Hermione said, raising her eyebrows.

"Er - why not?" Harry asked.

"There's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

I snorted under my breath. Another advantage of coming from the States, I knew a lot more about the other magical schools than anyone else. "Come off it," Ron told her, starting to laugh. "Durmstrang has got to be about the same size as Hogwarts - how are you going to hide a great big castle?"

"But Hogwarts is hidden," Hermione said, in surprise. "Everyone knows that... well, everyone who's read Hogwarts, A History, anyway."

"Just you, then," Ron said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Or, you know, if you ever listened in class," I told Ron.

"That's what I've got you two for," Ron replied, grinning. I rolled my eyes at him. He turned back to Hermione. "So go on - how do you hide a place like Hogwarts?"

"It's bewitched. If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a moldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying DANGER, DO NOT ENTER, UNSAFE," Hermione answered.

"So, Durmstrang will just look like a ruin to an outsider too?" Ron asked.

"Maybe, or it might have Muggle-repelling charms on it, like the World Cup stadium," Hermione said, shrugging. "And to keep foreign wizards from finding it, they'll have made it Unplottable -"

"Come again?" Ron interrupted.

"Well, you can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't you?" Hermione said.

"Er... if you say so," Harry said dumbly.

"A lot of forests in Burkina Faso are Unplottable," I put in.

"Where?" Ron asked.

"It's a small country in western Africa," I explained.

"Why are they Unplottable?" Harry asked.

"Because of Runespoors," I explained. Harry and Ron still looked completely lost. Hermione was nodding along. I figured that the boys needed a little extra explanation. "Since they're so easy to spot, the Burkina Faso Ministry of Magic had made several forests Unplottable for the Runespoor's use. Mostly to avoid being seen by Muggles."

"What's a Runespoor?" Ron asked.

Hadn't we gone over this in Second Year? "It's a three-headed snake," I explained. "You know that your brother loved magical creatures, right? Did you two never talk about them?" Ron shook his head. "Honestly, you'd think you two have never picked up a book in your lives."

Ron looked like he was about to talk again, but Hermione spoke over him. "But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north," she said thoughtfully. "Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms."

"They think it's in Scandinavia," I said suddenly.

All three of them turned to me. "How do you know that?" Ron asked disbelievingly.

"One of the professors at Ilvermorny had gone when they were younger and had a little bit of memory from being there. She told us that she looked on maps and ultimately figured out that it was in the far north of Europe. She thinks it was Scandinavia," I told them.

"What do you mean 'a little bit of memory?'" Hermione asked confusedly.

"Well, Durmstrang makes visitors comply with memory charms to erase their knowledge of how they got there," I explained.

"What?" Harry asked blankly.

"That's how secretive it is. Everyone who remembers a little bit talks about vast, sprawling grounds with many stunning views. Apparently, there's also this great, dark, spectral ship that's moored on a mountain lake behind the school. Kind of like the Black Lake at Hogwarts," I said. The others nodded slowly. I thought about letting it go, but I had always enjoyed showing Hermione that there were things she didn't know. "By the way, Beauxbatons is in France. Everyone knows that."

Hermione bristled slightly, just as I knew she would. Harry and Ron laughed. "Apparently not everyone," Harry muttered.

"How do you know that?" Hermione asked sharply.

And you're supposed to be the smart one... "Listen to the name, Hermione. It just sounds French," I explained.

Her face reddened at the simple explanation. "Ah, think of the possibilities. It would've been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident... Shame his mother likes him..." Ron said dreamily.

There was a good chance that he hadn't been listening since we had mentioned that Durmstrang was in the far north of Europe. I laughed loudly as we all sank back into the seats. I leaned out the window and watched as the rolling hills flew past us. I wished that it would stop raining though. I had always liked watching the idyllic countryside. We played a few games of Exploding Snap throughout the ride until Hermione barked at us to be quiet. She was still trying to read her new books for the year. We had made it almost impossible to read back at the Burrow.

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. I frowned and eventually just gave up on trying to watch the countryside. It was far too dark to see anything. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. Hermione was reading The Prophet, Ron was flipping through a new school book and Harry was twiddling with his wand when the lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor. I placed down my book and raised from my seat. Harry and I agreed to buy a large stack of Cauldron Cakes for us all to share.

"Anything from the trolley? Anything from the trolley?" the trolley witch called from the corridor. The older woman appeared at our door, smiling in. "Anything from the trolley, dears?"

"Packet of drewbals and a licorice wand," Ron said.

He rose to his feet along with Harry and myself. I started digging through my pockets to find all of my change. I really should have put all of my Muggle money away before getting on the Hogwarts Express. The trolley witch grabbed the packet of drewbals and handed them over to Ron. He took it and started digging through his pockets. He came up with a single Sickle. It wasn't enough for both snacks. My stomach dropped at the sight of it. I exchanged a quick look with Harry. We came from very wealthy families who had more than enough to spend on candy.

"On second thought, just the drewbals," Ron said awkwardly.

"It's alright, I'll get it," Harry offered quickly.

"Just the drewbals, thanks," Ron muttered.

As the boys sorted their candies out, I turned back to Hermione. "Do you want anything else?" I asked her.

"Just the cauldron cake. Split one?" Hermione asked.

"Sure. One cauldron cake, please," I told the trolley witch.

She smiled and went through the cart for the cauldron cake. Harry was still leaning out of the compartment to see what he wanted. I glanced up long enough to see that Cho Chang was walking up from the other side of the train. I rolled my eyes. Cho Chang was - needless to say - one of my least favorite people on the planet. Somehow I had hoped that she might have ended up not returning to Hogwarts this year. Wishful thinking... In the meantime, the trolley witch had grabbed my cauldron cake.

"Here you are, dear."

"Thank you," I said, handing over a Sickle and grabbing the cake.

"Two pumpkin pasties, please," Cho told the trolley witch.

Cho was hanging over the trolley witch's shoulder, handing over the change. To be fair to Cho Chang, I had spoken less than ten words to her since meeting almost four years ago. It had taken just an accidentally ruined pair of shoes for us to hate each other. Of course, having me date her crush didn't help matters. As Harry reached for a cauldron cake, he met eyes with Cho. She gave him a brief smile before glancing down. Harry gave a stupid smile in return. Cho grabbed the cauldron cake from the trolley witch.

"Thank you," Cho told her.

She smiled at Harry before turning back with her friends. "Anything sweet for you dear?" the trolley witch asked Harry.

Harry looked stunned, obviously having forgotten that someone else was in the hallway. "Oh, no, thank you," he told the trolley witch, looking back at Cho. "I'm not hungry."

For food, at least. "Awkward," I muttered.

There was an absolutely moronic smile on Harry's face. I smacked his shoulder to shove him back into the compartment. I had a feeling he would never have moved if I hadn't. I was about to walk back into the compartment when I spotted Cedric walking down the hall. I smiled at him, but it quickly fell. At the same moment, I realized that Cho had stopped walking. She was now turned back to Cedric, smiling just like I was. I stiffened slightly. I was literally just a few feet away from her. I scowled slightly but tried to straighten up as Cedric stood next to me.

"Knew I'd find you here," Cedric teased, motioning to the trolley.

"Damn. Am I getting predictable?" I whined.

"Trust me when I tell you that you'll never be predictable," Cedric said. I smiled at him. He turned slightly and noticed Cho standing there. He smiled at her. "Hey, Cho."

"Hi, Cedric," Cho said sweetly.

My teeth ground together slightly. "How was your summer?" Cedric asked her.

"It was good. We went to the Quidditch World Cup. Did you?" Cho asked him.

"Yeah, I went with my dad," Cedric answered.

"That's nice," Cho said.

"Anything from the trolley, dear?" the trolley witch asked Cedric.

I'd never been so thrilled to have her around. I could have kissed her for interrupting. "Yes, uh, can I get a Chocolate Frog and a pack of Sugar Quills?" Cedric asked, handing her the money.

"Here you are," she said, giving him the candy.

"Thank you," Cedric told her. He grabbed the candy and pocketed it. Before he put everything away, he took a Sugar Quill and slipped it from the packaging, handing it to me. I laughed. "Present for actually managing to make it into the train this year."

"Hey, I made it last year," I snapped.

We both laughed as Cedric turned to look between myself and Cho, seemingly finally noticing that neither one of us would meet the other's eyes. "Cho, you know Tara, right?" Cedric asked.

She smiled tersely. "We've met," Cho answered, turning to me begrudgingly. "Nox."

"Chang," I greeted.

We both smiled tersely at each other. The air suddenly felt almost too thick to breathe. The trolley witch gently pushed past us to move down the train. With that, Cho smiled at Cedric and waved before walking off, meeting back up with her friends. I wasn't stupid enough to miss the sharp glare that I received from her as she passed. Cedric hadn't been able to see. I rolled my eyes and turned back to see that Harry was still hanging out of the compartment, staring wistfully after Cho. My jaws set.

"Well... this has been sufficiently awkward. Thanks, guys," I said.

Harry turned a bright red and dashed back into the cabin, almost collapsing onto the bench. Cedric looked at him confusedly as I turned to the compartment. He caught my arm before I could walk in. "Hang on," Cedric told me.

I waited for a brief moment, in which Cedric didn't speak. "Was there a follow-up to that?" I asked awkwardly.

Cedric laughed quietly. "I didn't want anyone standing around to overhear," Cedric explained. My eyebrows raised. That didn't bode well. "Meet me in the Astronomy Tower tonight? There's something I want to talk to you about."

"That doesn't sound appealing," I half-teased.

Cedric smiled. "I'll be there. Won't that be appealing?"

"Fair, I suppose. Midnight?"

"Deal."

Wasn't I the one who used to get him to go to the Astronomy Tower? Now he was the one offering to go. "You know, I genuinely think that I might be rubbing off on you. Sneaking off in the middle of the night to the Astronomy Tower?" I said. Cedric smiled playfully. "Who are you and what have you done with Cedric Diggory?"

"You're a bad influence, Tara Nox," Cedric said.

The thought didn't sound quite finished. "But?" I asked.

"You're also kind of fun," Cedric finished.

We both laughed quietly. I was way more than just a little bit of fun or kind of fun. I liked to think that I was incredibly fun. Fun and dangerous. I thought that it was an interesting combination. I giggled again as Cedric grabbed my waist and pulled me in for a small kiss. We were pressed back against the corner of the hallway, but apparently, it wasn't far enough. There were lots of hoots and howls and catcalls from the students in the surrounding cabins and in the hall. Embarrassed, I laughed awkwardly and pulled away from him slightly.

As I opened my mouth to make some kind of joke, George appeared at my side. "Get a cabin."

"Mind your damn business," I snapped at him.

"I would if your business wasn't flopping around the hallway for the rest of us to enjoy," he replied.

Well, that was moderately rude. I scowled at George and shoved him gently away from me. "I'm gonna tell your mother you're still working on Weasley Wizard Wheezes," I threatened him.

George paled slightly. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me," I said. George smacked me on the shoulder before making an about-face and strutting off. I chuckled and turned back to where Fred was standing, staring blankly into the distance. What was wrong with him? "You feeling alright?"

"Yeah," Fred said tonelessly.

"Missing an opportunity to mess with me?" I asked, smiling at him.

"There'll be more," Fred answered. I frowned, surprised at the abrasiveness of Fred's answer. Had I done something? Before I could think about it any longer, Fred's face turned up in a slight grin. "In the meantime..." Fred leaned down and snatched the Sugar Quill from my hand and whipped around, darting off. "Thank you!"

That was the only Sugar Quill that I had. The rest were tucked away in my bag. "You'll pay for that, Fred Weasley!" I shouted after him as he vanished down the hall. I rolled my eyes and turned back to Cedric, who had been watching us. "He's in an odd mood."

Cedric nodded blankly. "Girl troubles, I'd assume."

Girl troubles? He hadn't told me that there was a girl he was interested in. Not that I had told him about Cedric, granted, but I would have wanted to know if there was someone in his life. I had always counted Fred among my best friends. We were extremely close. I loved him to death. We seemed to always be doing things together and talking about just about anything. But our relationships were the one thing we didn't really talk about. He teased me over my relationship with Cedric but we never did talk about his relationships. Did he even have any?

He was a nice-looking guy but, as far as I knew, he'd never been out with anyone and hadn't had a crush. "Is he dating someone?" I asked Cedric curiously, slightly bothered by the thought.

Cedric glanced over at me and smiled, shaking his head. "That's not what I meant."

"I don't get it," I admitted.

Cedric smiled again. "Probably for the best."

What the hell was that supposed to mean? I thought about pushing it for a moment before deciding not to push the matter. Cedric never seemed very interested in talking about Fred. I could only assume that it was because something had happened between the two of them that neither one of them would own up to. One day I would get it out of them. I was determined. But the first day of the new semester probably wasn't a good time to be starting any fights. So, I settled on the other matter I wanted an answer about.

"So, was that thing that's happening at Hogwarts the Triwizard Tournament?" I asked.

Cedric grinned. "We'll talk about it tonight."

Useless back on the platform and useless right now. "What good are you as a boyfriend if you won't tell me things before other people do?" I whined.

Cedric laughed. "I certainly hope that's not all I'm good for."

"Depends whether or not you tell me what's going on," I said, grinning.

All I wanted was the answer to what was going on. Cedric smiled and leaned into me. For a moment I thought that he was going to tell me the truth. "I'm not telling you," Cedric said, bopping me on the nose. "Good try though."

"Oh, you suck," I groaned.

But Cedric was smiling proudly. "For once, I like being the one to know things before you do."

"You like that position of power, do you?"

"Concerning, isn't it?"

"Coming from you, a little bit. After all, you are a Hufflepuff," I teased, unable to resist a little good-natured House bias.

Cedric gasped quietly. "Hitting below the belt now, are we?"

"That's what you get for not telling me what's going on."

All I wanted was an answer! An answer wasn't that hard. But I knew that he was drawing it out because he thought that it was funny. At this point, I wouldn't know for a fact until Dumbledore told everyone else. Damn... I was about to argue with Cedric to tell me again when he laughed and pulled me in for another kiss. I immediately melted into it. We remained locked together for a little while before I finally backed away. It was only because there were people in the hall trying to squeeze through. I knew that this wasn't the best place for either one of us to be hanging out in.

"Midnight at the Astronomy Tower, then?" I asked Cedric, keeping my hands tucked into his pocket.

"It's a date," Cedric said.

I smiled. "See you at the feast."

We exchanged another quick peck before turning and heading back to our separate cabins. I knew that he had his Prefect meeting coming up soon that he had to go to anyway. As I turned back I was very pleased to see that we had stopped to kiss in front of Cho's cabin. She was sitting with some of her friends from Ravenclaw. They all looked quite displeased to see our act of intimacy. It was very hard for me to resist making a face at her as I passed and instead, being an adult about it and heading back to my own cabin.

It ended up taking me a long time to get back to the cabin. I was stopped by a number of my friends on the way back. Alicia, Katie, and Angelina - my fellow Chasers on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team - pulled me to the side to talk about the upcoming games this year. Angelina would now be the captain with Oliver having graduated. Lee Jordan had made us promise that we would still win without Oliver. Hannah Abbott, Ernie MacMillan, and Justin Finch-Fletchley stopped to ask about my summer. I even stopped to say a quick hello to Luna Lovegood, a sweet but odd girl who was in Ravenclaw and a year behind me.

I'd been gone almost half an hour by the time I finally wandered back to my own cabin. "Where were you?" Harry asked as I spread out next to Hermione.

"I have friends outside of the three of you, you know," I said.

"With Diggory," Ron huffed.

"Not just with him, I'll have you know," I snapped.

"They saw the kiss," Hermione explained, barely looking up from her book.

"Naturally," I groaned.

The others laughed as we went back to what we had been doing earlier. I glanced down at my book, but I didn't get long to read through it. Several of our friends looked in on us as the afternoon progressed, including Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom, a round-faced, extremely forgetful boy who had been brought up by his formidable witch of a grandmother. Seamus was still wearing his Ireland rosette. Some of its magic seemed to be wearing off now; it was still squeaking 'Troy - Mullet - Moran!' but in a very feeble and exhausted sort of way.

Lavender Brown, Fay Dunbar, and Parvati Patil - my dorm mates in Gryffindor - came to visit about midday. Padma Patil (Parvati's twin sister who had been Sorted into Ravenclaw) was with them. They only hung around for about ten minutes before leaving. As much as I did like the girls, there was only so much talk about shopping I could take. They clearly didn't care about Quidditch that much, since they only listened to the conversation for about two minutes before taking off, promising that we would see them at the Welcoming Feast.

After half an hour or so, Hermione, growing tired of the endless Quidditch talk, buried herself once more in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, and started trying to learn a Summoning Charm. I rolled my eyes at her. We were going to have almost a full year of magical training in a matter of hours. Why did she always want to get such a head start? Much like the boys, I was completely engrossed in the Quidditch talk. Neville listened jealously to the others' conversation as we relived the World Cup match.

"Why didn't you go, Neville?" I asked him.

"Gran didn't want to go. Wouldn't buy tickets," Neville explained miserably.

"I still have my Omnioculars. I recorded some bits of the game. I'll show you sometime in the Common Room," I told him, feeling quite guilty about talking about the game in front of him.

"Thanks, Tara," Neville said, brightening up slightly. "Bet it was something in person. It sounded amazing."

"It was," Ron said. "Look at this, Neville..."

He rummaged in his trunk up in the luggage rack and pulled out the miniature figure of Viktor Krum. I grabbed my bag from the luggage rack and started going through it. I knew that my Omnioculars were in here somewhere. I really wanted Neville to feel a little more included. He was a Pureblood - and a part of the Sacred Twenty-Nine families at that - but he seemed to act like a Muggle-Born when he was home for the summer. I couldn't imagine how upset I would have been if my parents hadn't bought tickets for us to go to the World Cup.

"Oh wow," Neville said enviously as Ron tipped Krum onto his pudgy hand.

"We saw him right up close, as well," Ron said. "We were in the Top Box -"

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley."

Draco Malfoy had appeared in the doorway. I groaned at him. I'd been so hoping that I wouldn't have to see him again. I'd hoped that his voice was all I would hear from him on the trip to Hogwarts. How could I have thought that? Idiot... He had likely been hanging around, waiting for something to use against Ron. Behind Malfoy stood Crabbe and Goyle, his enormous, thuggish cronies, both of whom appeared to have grown at least a foot during the summer. Evidently, they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door, which Dean and Seamus had left ajar.

"You don't have something better to do?" I snapped at them.

Malfoy grinned at me. "I'm right where I want to be."

"Funny. I'd much prefer you to be on the moon," I hissed.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," Harry said coolly.

Malfoy grinned at me and scowled at Harry before turning back to Ron. "Weasley... what is that?" Malfoy asked, pointing at Pigwidgeon's cage.

All of us looked over to see what was happening. I scowled as soon as I realized what he was looking at. It would be just another thing for Malfoy to tease Ron and the Weasley family about. A sleeve of Ron's used dress robes was dangling from Pigwidgeon's cage, swaying with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff very obvious. Naturally, Malfoy would manage to see that first. Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled them over to himself.

"Look at this!" Malfoy howled in ecstasy, holding up Ron's robes and showing Crabbe and Goyle, "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean - they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety..."

"Eat dung, Malfoy!" Ron yelled.

His cheeks were turning the same color as the dress robes as he snatched them back out of Malfoy's grip. I gathered myself to my feet just long enough to shove Malfoy back out of the doorway. He was thrown back into Crabbe and Goyle, who only laughed even louder. I scowled at them again as Hermione wrapped a hand around my jeans and pulled me back into my seat. I hit the fabric with a slight grunt. Malfoy howled with derisive laughter at Ron's face; Crabbe and Goyle guffawed stupidly.

"What are you? Four?" I sneered, seeing as Hermione's grip on me hadn't loosened. I couldn't get up and punch him. "Grow up!"

Malfoy grinned. "How about you, Nox? What'll you be wearing?"

"Your face on my foot, I hope," I growled.

Malfoy's pale eyes glittered deviously. "I'd hope for it to be somewhere else," he said sleazily.

"Ugh," I groaned. I rose to my feet again, yanking my clothes out of Hermione's grip, and shoved Malfoy roughly. "You're disgusting!"

"Yes, I am," Malfoy purred.

"Get out, Malfoy," Harry growled dangerously.

Malfoy completely ignored Harry and instead turned to Ron. "So… going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know... you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won..."

It was definitely the Triwizard Tournament if they were talking about prize money. "What are you talking about?" Ron snapped.

"Are you going to enter?" Malfoy repeated slowly. "I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

"How about you, Malfoy? Too cowardly?" I countered.

"I don't need the money," Malfoy said, shrugging.

"Or the glory, apparently," I said.

"Will you enter?" Malfoy asked me.

"Doubtful. With the many eventful years I've had in the past, I'll be more than happy to let someone else enjoy glory for a year," I answered.

Malfoy snorted. "Talk about cowardly when you wouldn't enter either."

"I said doubtful. Not definitely not," I hissed defensively.

There was no way that I was letting him call me cowardly. "Either explain what you're on about or go away, Malfoy," Hermione said testily, over the top of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4.

A gleeful smile spread across Malfoy's pale face. "Don't tell me you don't know?" Malfoy asked the others delightedly. None of them answered. He then turned back to me. "You haven't told them?"

"Figure it'll be more exciting as a surprise," I said carelessly.

Maybe I should have told them... Just so that Malfoy wouldn't get the satisfaction of knowing something that we didn't. "You've got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don't even know?" Malfoy asked Ron, who continued scowling at him. "My God, my father told me about it ages ago... heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry. Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley... yes... they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him."

"Or because they're afraid he'll summon Voldemort on them," I said.

Crabbe and Goyle looked shocked that I'd dared say his name. Ron twitched slightly. Malfoy's face fell. "Watch it, Nox," Malfoy warned.

"Or, what?" I asked.

"Pretty sure you don't want to know that answer," Malfoy said.

"Empty threat, more likely," I scoffed.

"We'll see," Malfoy said.

Even if something was happening with Voldemort, I highly doubted that Malfoy would have anything to do with it. He was just a bratty kid. There was no way his father would trust him with information like that. He hadn't even trusted him with the secret of Tom Riddle's diary. Laughing once more, Malfoy beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them disappeared. I rolled my eyes at them and kicked back into my seat. Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind them that the glass shattered.

"Ron!" Hermione yelled reproachfully.

"Good arm," I snorted.

"Tara, honestly," Hermione chided. I smiled at her. Hermione pulled out her wand, muttered "Reparo!" and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door.

"Well... making it look like he knows everything and we don't.... 'Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry.' Dad could've got a promotion any time... he just likes it where he is..." Ron snarled.

"Of course he does," Hermione said quietly.

My stomach churned nervously. I leaned forward and pressed a hand against Ron's leg. "Your father doesn't need or want approval. He likes his independence and I appreciate that," I said brightly.

"Don't let Malfoy get to you, Ron -"

"Him! Get to me? As if!" Ron interrupted Harry, picking up one of the remaining Cauldron Cakes and squashing it into a pulp.

"Well don't abuse the Cauldron Cake over it..." I mumbled.

"Sorry, Tara," Ron said guiltily, handing me back the destroyed remnants of my Cauldron Cake.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it," I said, shrugging him off.

"Going to finally tell us what he was talking about?" Harry asked me.

"No, that still hasn't changed anything," I said determinedly.

At this point, it was kind of fun hanging the fact that I knew something they didn't over their heads. Hermione didn't seem to care very much but I could tell that it was greatly bothering Harry that he didn't know and I did. He was used to me telling him everything. I smiled as Harry laughed and shoved me back against the window. Ron was scowling out of the window. I had a feeling that he wouldn't cheer up until we were at the Welcoming Feast and he could eat his weight in sweets.

During the last few hours of the ride to Hogwarts, I spent a lot of time thinking about the Triwizard Tournament. At this point, there wasn't a doubt in my mind that it would be the big secret at Hogwarts this year. It hadn't been held for over two hundred and fifty years. I didn't know why they were bringing it back after so many people had died in it. But I grinned at the thought of being crowned champion. But I'd have to face three dangerous tasks. But I could have eternal glory. I could just enter, too. Doubtful I would get picked. Maybe I would enter. Just so that Malfoy couldn't say anything.

My thoughts were broken when a large owl flew up to the window of the compartment. Hermione dropped the window and allowed the large owl in. Pigwidgeon looked thrilled to see the new visitor, who looked quite upset at the sight of Pigwidgeon. I smiled as the owl dropped a letter from Oliver Wood in my lap. It was all about his suggestions for the Gryffindor House Quidditch Team this year, along with wishing us good luck. I smiled and wrote him back a letter that promised to keep up Gryffindor's good name and wished him luck on the Puddlemere Reserve.

Ron's bad mood continued for the rest of the journey. He clearly wasn't in the mood to talk about Quidditch or pretty much anything that didn't involve creative ways to kill Malfoy. Ron didn't talk much as we changed into our school robes (Hermione and I won the advantage of getting to change in the cabin this year), and was still glowering when the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station. I smiled as I stood from my seat.

"Come on, Ron. Cheer up!" I chirped, throwing my arms over his shoulder. "We're finally home."

Ron barely managed to tilt his lips up in a slight smile. I grinned back at him. We would get there. As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. The weather hadn't gotten any better even in Scotland. Hermione bundled up Crookshanks in her cloak and Ron left his dress robes over Pigwidgeon as we left the train, heads bent and eyes narrowed against the downpour. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over our heads.

These were the days I missed the warm summer nights in Florida. "Hi, Hagrid!" Harry yelled.

"Hey, Hagrid," I cheered, spotting the gigantic silhouette at the far end of the platform.

"All righ', Harry? Hello, Tara!" Hagrid bellowed back, waving. "See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!"

First Years traditionally reached Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid. In our First Year, the weather had been lovely. It had been a slightly chilly night but the wind had been completely still. It had been like sailing across glass. The weather this year would likely traumatize some of those kids. I felt particularly bad for the Muggle-Born's, who were traditionally the most confused on the trip to the castle. Hagrid and the gathering crowd of First Years were quickly lost in the whipping winds and rain.

"Oh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather," Hermione said fervently, shivering as we inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd.

"Where's your sense of adventure, Hermione?" I teased, throwing my arm over her shoulder.

She snorted under her breath and shoved me off of her. A hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for us outside the station. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and I climbed gratefully into one of them and the door shut with a snap. I glanced out of the window and sent a quick wink to Cedric, who was clambering onto one a few back from us. He grinned back at me. A few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track toward Hogwarts Castle.


	12. The Triwizard Tournament

Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive, the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Another gust seemed sure to blow the carriages right into the Black Lake. Leaning against the window, I could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. I smiled up at the sight of it. It was as my parents had once told me, the sight of Hogwarts for the first time in a new year would never get old.

Lightning flashed across the sky as our carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and I jumped down from our carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when we were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent marble staircase. I was the first one inside. Harry and Ron were right behind me with Hermione and Neville trailing behind them.

"Blimey, if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow," Ron groaned, shaking his head and sending water everywhere. "I'm soak - ARRGH!"

A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as a second water bomb dropped - narrowly missing Hermione, it burst at my feet, sending a wave of cold water over my sneakers into my socks. I yelped in disgust and discomfort as I staggered back. People all around us shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. I shoved Ron off to the side to stand in between Hermione and Harry.

Random water balloons dropping from the sky was an odd way to start the year. Even at Hogwarts. I looked up and saw, floating twenty feet above us, Peeves the Poltergeist, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again. I groaned as I side-stepped from the path his next water balloon was set to follow. Peeves was notorious for harassing the student body of Hogwarts with his somewhat cruel and somewhat funny pranks.

"Correction: Now you're soaking," I told Ron.

"Shut up, Tara," Ron groaned, trying to keep from slipping on the stone floor.

As much as I hated Peeves most of the time, even I had to admit that he was rather clever with some of his jokes. "Come on. That's kind of funny," I said, trying to stifle my laughter.

"Tara, honestly, he's a menace," Hermione chided.

Wasn't that kind of the point of a poltergeist? "You're telling me that you wouldn't have laughed if it was Malfoy?" I asked her. Hermione remained silent. "That's what I thought."

"Still... what did we ever do to him?" Hermione asked.

Poltergeists weren't like ghosts. They had never been humans. They had only ever known their half-alive status. "Nothing. He's a poltergeist. He just likes to cause mayhem. That's literally the only reason he exists," I pointed out.

"PEEVES! Peeves, come down here at once!" an angry voice yelled.

"Oh, he's in for it now," I hummed.

Coming down the stairs was perhaps one of the worst people to get caught doing something against the rules by. Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House, had come dashing out of the Great Hall. I assumed that she must have heard all of the racket that Peeves and the rest of us were causing. She skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione around the neck to stop herself from falling. I stepped back as Professor McGonagall attempted to straighten up.

"Ouch - sorry, Miss Granger -"

"That's all right, Professor!" Hermione gasped, massaging her throat.

"You all right?" I asked Hermione, grabbing her arm and pulling her over to us.

"Fine," Hermione groaned, still looking to be in a bit of pain.

"Peeves, get down here now!" Professor McGonagall barked, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.

"Not doing nothing!" Peeves cackled, lobbing a water bomb at several Fifth-Year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!"

My eyes rolled so far into the back of my head that I was sure they would get stuck there. The one thing I hadn't missed about Hogwarts was Peeves. He was a complete menace, hell-bent on ruining the days of innocent students. Peeves blew another raspberry at Professor McGonagall before aiming another bomb at a group of Second Years who had just arrived. They shrieked and ran off. A hand suddenly fell on my shoulder and I practically jumped out of my skin. When I turned back, I saw that it was Cedric, who had finally caught up with the rest of the students.

He was gazing up at Peeves, who had moved onto making obscene gestures at Professor McGonagall. "Quite the little monster, isn't he?" Cedric asked me, folding his arms over his chest.

"Yet you people somehow think I'm the poorly-behaved one," I huffed.

"This doesn't change the fact that you're still badly-behaved," Cedric teased.

Well... my poor behavior in school would likely never change. "You like it," I half-sang, nudging his shoulder.

"Yes, I do," Cedric admitted. We exchanged a quick grin but Cedric's attention quickly turned back toward the ceiling. "Duck!"

Well-aware that he was paying much more attention than I was, I let Cedric grab my arm and yank me into him. I had barely managed to throw myself underneath another one of Peeves' water bombs. I narrowed my gaze at him as he began cackling maniacally again. I turned back just long enough to see that a Second Year Slytherin hadn't been quite as lucky as I had been. I suppressed a laugh as I looked at Peeves again, who was now making rather rude gestures at Professor McGonagall, who was still trying to get him to stop.

"Knock it off, asshole!" I yelled at the poltergeist.

"Language, Nox," Professor McGonagall chided, although she looked as though she could have called him that and much worse.

"Sorry, Professor," I mumbled.

"Oh, potty mouth, Foxy Noxy!" Peeves cackled.

It had always been Peeves' favorite nickname for me. That and a few other, much ruder, ones. "I hate that nickname," I growled.

"Yeah? I kind of like it," Cedric teased.

"Shut up," I snapped.

"I shall call the headmaster!" Professor McGonagall shouted. "I'm warning you, Peeves -"

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely. I could have sworn that I heard a few other curses get thrown back at us before he took off. I rolled my eyes as the rest of the students threw themselves out of the way of the falling water balloons. As they all splashed to the ground, soaking our feet even more, I turned back in hopes that Malfoy had managed to take a water balloon to the face. No such luck. It appeared that his cronies had managed to save him.

Disappointed that Peeves hadn't hit Malfoy, I turned back to Cedric. "Such a sweetheart," I said, wiping some sprayed water off of my clothes.

"A real charmer," Cedric added, brushing the damp hair off of his forehead.

"Well, move along, then!" Professor McGonagall called sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

"See you after the feast," Cedric said.

I smiled, giving his hand a quick squeeze. "Bye," I said.

In the background, I could feel the eye-rolls that I was receiving from my friends. Unfortunately, I didn't have long to yell at them to leave me alone. Next came the problem of getting into the Great Hall. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I slipped and slid across the entrance hall and through the double doors on the right. Everyone was having a tough time keeping themselves on their feet as they entered the Great Hall, considering that Peeves had managed to soak all of the stone floors. Ron was muttering furiously under his breath as he pushed his sopping hair off his face.

"Just dry yourself off, you fool," I snapped, sick of listening to him.

"How, genius?" Ron hissed.

Maybe if he ever read a book, he would have known this one. I whipped out my wand and gave it a complicated little wave. As soon as I had, hot air streamed out of the tip. Ron looked more than a little pleased at the feeling. I pointed the wand from the tip of his head to the bottom of his robes and onto our shoes, which I hated being wet. Our clothes began to steam slightly as they dried out. Ron looked extremely grateful as I slid my wand back into my robes. Hermione looked shocked. I assumed that it was because it was a wordless spell.

"What was that?" Ron asked gratefully.

"The Hot-Air Charm," I said.

"Since when did we learn that?" Ron asked, baffled.

"Since never, Ronald," I sighed. Were they just never planning on learning a new spell once they left Hogwarts? "Mom taught me when we lived back in Florida since I was always traipsing back through the house drenched in water after coming back from the beach."

"Teach me, why don't you?" Ron said.

Having me teach Ron a spell... That was one surefire way to end our friendship. "You won't listen," I said.

Ron looked quite offended, but Hermione spoke before he could. "Is that wordless?"

"As far as I know. I'm sure there's an actual incantation for it, but Mom never taught it to me," I told her. "I've always just used the wand movements."

"Hmm... I'll have to learn that one," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I didn't know that you knew wandless spells."

"Just a few. They're tough," I admitted. In fact, there were only three spells that I could regularly do without using the incantation. We would get better as we got older. "We're going to start learning them next year, I think."

"Something to study over the summer," Hermione said brightly.

Which, naturally, meant that I was going to get dragged into it. "Joy..." I muttered.

Hermione was already ignoring me, likely already making up study charts as we walked. The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. I sighed happily at the sight. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here.

As we fully entered the Great Hall, I glanced around at the other tables. Most of the older students were already seated. At the Hufflepuff table, I gave a quick smile to Cedric. He was sitting with his friends all surrounding him, as usual. They all laughed as my cheeks burned brilliantly. Our relationship would never not be funny to them. At the Ravenclaw table, Cho Chang was scowling at me, as usual. I scowled as we passed Malfoy at the Slytherin table, who was giving me a glittery smile that I would have loved to smack off his stupid face.

There was no doubt in my mind that he knew that he had gotten to me earlier. Trying to ignore him, I walked firmly past the Slytherin's, the Ravenclaw's, and the Hufflepuff's, and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindor's at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. Pearly white and semitransparent, Nick was dressed tonight in his usual doublet, but with a particularly large ruff, which served the dual purpose of looking extra-festive, and ensuring that his head didn't wobble too much on his partially severed neck.

Harry took the spot next to me as Hermione and Ron took the two on the opposite side of the table. "Hi, Nick," I greeted, smiling at the ghost.

"Good evening," Nick said, beaming at us.

"Says who?" Harry asked bitterly, taking off his sneakers and emptying them of water. I rolled my eyes and snatched his shoes, drying them as I had done with mine earlier. "Thanks. Hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I'm starving."

"Maybe if you'd bought some candy in the train instead of pined after a girl who barely knows you exist..." I muttered.

"Oh, shut up. I just wasn't hungry," Harry snapped.

"Not for food, at least," I said quietly.

"Tara!" Hermione gasped.

"What?" I asked.

"Honestly..." Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

Right... I always forgot that Americans tended to be a lot blunter about things. "I'm still partially an American, Hermione. I'm going to say things like that. Get used to it," I told her.

Hermione rolled her eyes at me as we all turned back to the four-legged stool sitting in the center of the front section of the Great Gall. The Sorting of the new students into Houses took place at the start of every school year, but by an unlucky combination of circumstances, I hadn't been present at one since my own. In Second Year, we'd flown by car and missed it after crashing into the Whomping Willow. Last year I'd been intercepted by Professor McGonagall to give me the Time-Turner. I was quite looking forward to it this year. Just then, a highly excited, breathless voice called down the table.

"Hiya, Harry!"

All of the heads on our side of the table jerked up. I glanced up and smiled almost immediately. It was Colin Creevey, a Third Year to whom Harry was something of a hero. He was very sweet but a little neurotic. He talked so much that it was usually extremely hard to follow him. I hadn't seen him much last year, for which I was extremely grateful. Colin was sweet but he was a little overwhelming.

"Hi, Colin," Harry said warily.

Colin was about to respond to him before seemingly noticing me. "Oh, h-hi, Tara," Colin stammered.

"Hi, Colin," I answered.

While Harry might have been a hero to Colin, Colin had had a crush on me since he had first started Hogwarts two years ago. I wasn't exactly sure why. But everyone knew it thanks to Gilderoy Lockhart's loud mouth. I had always tried to just ignore the crush since I knew how embarrassed he was about it. Over at the Hufflepuff table, I could hear Cedric laughing. I rolled my eyes at him, pressing my head into my hands. He, like so many others, had always thought that Colin's crush on me was rather funny.

"Are you still with Cedric Diggory?" Colin asked rather boldly.

It was the first time that I'd ever heard him speak to me without stuttering. "Yeah," I answered.

"And he'll flatten you if he sees you flirting with his girlfriend," Ron muttered under his breath.

"Shut up!" I snapped, kicking Ron under the table. He grunted in pain. "He thinks Colin's crush is funny, actually."

While I had been snapping at Ron, Colin had gone back to Harry. "Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!"

"Er - good," Harry said awkwardly.

"That's nice for him," I told Colin, who smiled at me. "Is he ready?"

"He's really excited!" Colin told me, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. One of these days I was sure that Colin would give himself a heart attack. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?"

"Er - yeah, all right," Harry said.

"Will you, Tara?" Colin asked.

"Yeah, of course," I said. "He'll probably be in Gryffindor."

It wasn't as likely that Dennis would be in Gryffindor since there was no real family history there. One of the only reasons that I had been in Gryffindor was because my entire family had been before me. But I didn't want to tell Colin that. I should have at least let him have some hope. Colin then turned back to Hermione, Ron, and Nearly Headless Nick. Harry looked like he was planning on smashing his head into the table. He had always been extremely embarrassed by his conversations with Colin.

"Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don't they?" Colin asked the others.

From the direction he was looking, I could only assume that he was judging by the Weasley's, all seven of whom had been put into Gryffindor. As had their parents when they were in school. Much like my own family. My parents had both been in Gryffindor, just like where I had been placed. The same had happened to Harry's family. So had Malfoy's family, just with Slytherin instead of Gryffindor. But it wasn't always the truth. Sirius had been the first Gryffindor in a long line of Slytherin's.

"Oh no, not necessarily. Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw, and they're identical," Hermione said. It had come as a shock to everyone, including the twins, that they hadn't been placed together. "You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?"

"But they're so different from each other," I told her. Lowering my voice, I leaned into the three of them slightly. "Plus, Sirius was the only Gryffindor in a long line of Slytherin's. It's more common to be placed in the same House as family members, but not a sure deal."

After all, hadn't I almost gotten Sorted into Slytherin? Just as Harry had. I swallowed nervously and looked somewhere else to try and distract myself. I looked up at the staff table at the end of the Great Hall. There seemed to be rather more empty seats there than usual. Hagrid, of course, was still fighting his way across the lake with the First Years; Professor McGonagall was presumably supervising the drying of the entrance hall floor, but there was another empty chair too, and I spent a few minutes trying to think who else was missing.

"Where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Hermione asked, who was also looking up at the teachers.

That was the person who was missing. I arched an eyebrow curiously. Where was our new teacher? I was halfway curious to make a bet on how long it would take this one before they attempted to kill me. We had never yet had a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who had lasted more than three terms. We had also never had one - accidental or not - that hadn't attempted to kill us. My favorite by far had been Professor Lupin, who had resigned last year. I looked up and down the staff table. There was definitely no new face there.

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" Hermione gasped, looking anxious.

Not a chance in hell. They would have rather canceled school than let us come without getting a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Maybe I was just missing them. I scanned the table more carefully. Tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, whose hat was askew over her flyaway gray hair. She was talking to Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. I had always liked Professor Sinistra. She was tough but genuinely cared for her students.

On Professor Sinistra's other side was the sallow-faced, hook-nosed, greasy-haired Potions master, Professor Snape - my least favorite person at Hogwarts. My loathing of Snape was matched only by Snape's hatred of me, a hatred which had, if possible, intensified last year, when I had helped Sirius escape right under Snape's overlarge nose - Snape and Sirius had been enemies since their own school days. My hatred of Snape could only be surpassed by Harry's. Our parents had been best friends and had all hated Snape, a hatred which had been returned ten-fold.

It certainly made sense that we were two of Snape's least favorite students. On Snape's other side was an empty seat, which I guessed was Professor McGonagall's. Next to it, and in the very center of the table, sat Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, his sweeping silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificent deep green robes embroidered with many stars and moons. The tips of Dumbledore's long, thin fingers were together and he was resting his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through his half-moon spectacles as though lost in thought.

It was perhaps one of the few times I had ever seen him look even moderately serious. I wondered if he was getting ready to make the announcement for what I assumed was going to be the Triwizard Tournament. I glanced up at the ceiling too. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and I had never seen it look this stormy. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it. I glanced back down at the table.

"No way, they found someone," I finally told Hermione.

"Who do you think?" Hermione asked.

Hopefully, someone who wasn't planning on trying to kill me. At this point, I was sick of all of our professors attempting to kill me. Even Professor Lupin - whose attach had been completely accidental. That was wishful thinking, though. I knew that it would be someone dangerous. Strangely enough, I was shot back to our conversation at the Burrow. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Diggory were talking about Mad-Eye Moody's new job. There was no way that they would hire him. Right? He was a little dangerous, even for Dumbledore. But he had hired Voldemort... Accidentally, of course.

"Oh my..." I breathed out. I looked up at the others. "Do you remember that conversation back at the Burrow when your parents said that Mad-Eye Moody was taking up a new position? The man hasn't worked in years, until now."

"There's no way they'd let a man like that teach in a school," Hermione said.

"Yeah?" I asked her sharply.

"Lockhart," Ron growled.

Hermione flushed slightly. "Let's go through the list. We had Quirrell, who turned out to have Voldemort buried in the back of his head. He tried to murder us. Then there was Lockhart, who had a creepy crush on my mother and tried to erase our memories. Then there was Professor Lupin, who, granted, couldn't control himself, but still tried to kill us," I pointed out. Hermione merely stared at me. "And you think that they won't hire a madman who actually was quite brilliant in his own time?"

"She makes a fair point," Ron said quietly.

"Should make for an interesting year," Hermione breathed.

"When aren't they?" I asked, laughing humorlessly.

"Oh hurry up, I could eat a Hippogriff," Ron moaned.

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of First Years up to the top of the Hall. I smiled at them. I'd always wanted to see a Sorting in which I wasn't terrified that I would fall on my way up to the stool. If Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were wet, it was nothing to how these First Years looked. They appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailed. I put a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing in the silence.

"Poor kids," I said, still giggling.

All of the new students were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school. I felt terribly for them. This was definitely not the best way to start off a new year at a new school - for some of them, their first exposure to the magical world. All of the new students looked terrified, except the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in what I recognized as Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. The coat was so big for him that it looked as though he were draped in a furry black circus tent.

What the hell had happened to that poor kid? It looked like he had just gone swimming in the Black Lake. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited. When he had lined up with his terrified-looking peers, he caught Colin Creevey's eye, gave a double thumbs-up, and mouthed, I fell in the lake! He looked positively delighted about it. It was definitely Dennis Creevey. He looked very much like his brother had when I'd first met him two years ago. Hopefully, he had a different taste in girls than his older brother did.

"We should tell him about the Grindylows," I whispered to Harry, who laughed.

"Don't you dare!" Hermione snapped.

"He'd probably ask them for their autograph," Harry whispered back.

We all laughed quietly, except for Hermione, who looked very annoyed that we were talking through the beginning of the Sorting. Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the First Years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty patched wizard's hat. It was the Sorting Hat. The First Years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:

"A thousand years or more ago,  
When I was newly sewn,  
There lived four wizards of renown,  
Whose names are still well known:

"Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,  
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,  
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,  
Shrewd Slytherin, from fin.

"They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,  
They hatched a daring plan  
To educate young sorcerers  
Thus Hogwarts School began.

"Now each of these four founders  
Formed their own house, for each  
Did value different virtues  
In the ones they had to teach.

"By Gryffindor, the bravest were  
Prized far beyond the rest;  
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest  
Would always be the best;  
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were  
Most worthy of admission;  
And power-hungry Slytherin  
Loved those of great ambition.

"While still alive they did divide  
Their favorites from the throng,  
Yet how to pick the worthy ones  
When they were dead and gone?

"'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,  
He whipped me off his head  
The founders put some brains in me  
So I could choose instead!

"Now slip me snug about your ears,  
I've never yet been wrong,  
I'll have a look inside your mind  
And tell where you belong!"

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished. As much as the Sorting Hat did annoy me (as it had once said that I had a great darkness in myself and belonged in Slytherin) I did enjoy listening to its songs. It was a lot more interesting than just standing in the middle of a Gordian Knot on the floor as we did in Ilvermorny. Their Sorting wasn't nearly as interesting. I did arch a brow as I stared at the Sorting Hat. That song didn't sound familiar. Was that the one it had sung three years ago?

"That's not the song it sang when it Sorted us," Harry said, clapping along with everyone else.

So, I wasn't going crazy. "Sings a different one every year," Ron explained. I raised a brow, surprised that there was finally something that he knew that I didn't. "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one."

"Well, I'll give it five stars," I said, smiling.

My gaze traveled around the room. I saw Cedric sitting at the Hufflepuff table, chatting to one of his friends. Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, and Justin Finch-Fletchley were all surrounding him, also involved in the conversation. For just the briefest moment, I was extremely jealous of them. For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, I vaguely wished that I was sitting at the Hufflepuff table. I shook my head and looked back up to the front of the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment.

"When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool. When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table," Professor McGonagall explained to the First Years. "Ackerley, Stewart!"

A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot. I frowned at him. He looked extremely embarrassed. That was about as afraid as everyone was the first time they walked up. The only person I had ever seen look vaguely confident when they had walked up was Malfoy - seeing as he had known that he would be placed in Slytherin. Professor McGonagall picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on his head, and he sat down on the stool. Even from here I could see the sweat beading on his forehead.

"RAVENCLAW!" the Sorting Hat shouted.

Stewart Ackerley took off the hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him. I rolled my eyes, only joining in on the cheering when Hermione nudged me. I looked over and noticed Harry catch a glimpse of Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker, cheering Stewart Ackerley as he sat down. I rolled my eyes at him. He looked like I had when I'd still had a crush on Cedric before we had started dating. From the look on Harry's face, I had a feeling that, for a fleeting second, he had a strange desire to join the Ravenclaw table too.

"Make it a little more obvious, why don't you?" I snapped at him.

Harry shook his head, looking over at me. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Nothing..." I muttered irritably.

"Baddock, Malcolm!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Malcolm Baddock was a dark-haired young boy who looked the slightest bit like Sirius. The table on the other side of the hall erupted with cheers; I could see Malfoy clapping as Baddock joined the Slytherin's. Was he planning on trying to make another kid into one of his cronies? I wondered whether Malcolm Baddock knew that Slytherin House had turned out more Dark witches and wizards than any other. On my other side, Fred and George were hissing at Malcolm Baddock as he sat down.

"Would you two stop? He could be perfectly nice," I told them.

"Dear, sweet, Tara," George said, leaning over and ruffling my hair.

"So clueless," Fred added.

"Hah-hah," I snapped, throwing them off of me.

"Branstone, Eleanor!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Cauldwell, Owen!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Creevey, Dennis!"

Tiny Dennis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's moleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. About twice as tall as a normal man, and at least three times as broad, Hagrid, with his long, wild, tangled black hair and beard, looked slightly alarming - a misleading impression, for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I knew Hagrid to possess a very kind nature. He winked at us as he sat down at the end of the staff table and watched Dennis Creevey putting on the Sorting Hat. The rip at the brim opened wide.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat shouted immediately.

At least he would get to be in the same House as his brother. I smiled at him. Hagrid clapped along with the Gryffindor's as Dennis Creevey, beaming widely, took off the Sorting Hat, placed it back on the stool, and hurried over to join his brother. He looked like he was about to stumble face-first onto the ground as he sprinted up the aisle. I laughed at the look on his face. He was more excited than even Collin had been when he'd first arrived in Hogwarts - which was not something easy to beat.

"Colin, I fell in!" Dennis said shrilly, throwing himself into an empty seat. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!"

"Cool! It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!" Colin said, just as excitedly.

"Wow!" Dennis said, as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep lake, and pushed out of it again by a giant sea monster.

It took me a moment to shake myself free from my stupor at the sight of the Creevey brothers. "Congratulations, Dennis. Welcome to Hogwarts," I told him from across the table.

"Thanks!" Dennis said excitedly, beaming at me. It looked like he wasn't going to have the same crush on me that his brother did. I sighed in relief. "What's your name?"

"I'm Tara Nox," I said.

Dennis's eyes lit up. "Oh, Colin's talked about you!"

"N - No!" Colin shouted, looking as though he could have killed his brother. I smiled into my empty plate. "No, I haven't. I mean, I've talked about everyone and I keep telling my family about Hogwarts and -"

"You'll love it here, Dennis," I said, over the top of Colin's stuttering. I just wanted to spare him the embarrassment of trying to explain that he hadn't talked about me to his parents, which was kind of awkward, considering the fact that I had never talked about Colin to anyone back home. "Hogwarts becomes a home for just about everyone who goes here."

"Awesome," Dennis said, beaming.

Thankfully, as I had been talking to Dennis, Colin had remembered himself. "Dennis! Dennis! See that boy down there? The one with the black hair and glasses? See him? Know who he is, Dennis?"

He was pointing to Harry. "You had to have seen that one coming," I whispered to him.

"That'll never get easier," Harry said, rolling her eyes.

Colin was still pointing out Harry to Dennis. Harry looked away, staring very hard at the Sorting Hat, now Sorting Emma Dobbs. I turned back toward the head table, watching as the students continued to move to their new tables. The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the three-legged stool, the line dwindling slowly as Professor McGonagall passed the L's. Very few of the students looked as comfortable as Malfoy had during the Sorting in our First Year.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, massaging his stomach.

"You just ate, you fool," I told him.

"On the train," Ron argued.

"It was just a couple of hours ago!" I snapped.

"A couple of hours ago was a couple of hours ago!" Ron yelled.

"What a stunning revelation, Ron. Thank you," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Now, Ron, the Sorting is much more important than food," Nearly Headless Nick said as 'Madley, Laura!' became a Hufflepuff.

"Course it is, if you're dead," Ron snapped.

"Merlin, Ron... Relax," I muttered.

He'd never had a great attitude once he got hungry. "I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindor's are up to scratch," Nearly Headless Nick said, applauding as 'McDonald, Natalie!' joined the Gryffindor table. "We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?"

Gryffindor had won the Inter-House Championship for the last three years in a row. Our First Year, we had only won because Dumbledore had given us a ton of extra points after we'd saved the Sorcerer's Stone from Quirrell and Voldemort. In our Second Year, we had managed to win after earning points from Dumbledore because we had saved the school from the Basilisk and Voldemort. Last year our winning streak at Quidditch had contributed to our win. So, mostly breaking the rules had allowed us to win. And Dumbledore's minor bias to Gryffindor.

"Don't worry, Nick. We've got two of the best Quidditch players in a century to help out," I told Nick. He grinned as I smiled proudly at myself and Harry. Fred and George cleared their throats impatiently on the other end of the table. "Four. Excuse me."

"Much better," Fred said. I smiled at them.

"Pritchard, Graham!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Quirke, Orla!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

And finally, with 'Whitby, Kevin!' ('HUFFLEPUFF!'), the Sorting ended. I smiled, looking down at the plates. By now, I was actually starting to get hungry. Not that I would admit that to Ron, who had been growling about his stomach for the past ten minutes as the Sorting went on and on. I had a feeling that he would have just as soon pointed at random students and Sorted them that way. Professor McGonagall picked up the Sorting Hat and the stool and carried them both away.

"About time," Ron said, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate.

"Wouldn't it be funny if Dumbledore picked now for a huge speech?" I said, snorting into my empty goblet.

"You're a horrible person," Ron growled.

"Yeah," I agreed.

That was what he got for not eating the sandwiches his mother had provided. They weren't always the best things in the world but he should have known that he would be starving by the middle of the evening. As Professor McGonagall walked off, Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. I grinned at him. Come on, Dumbledore. Make a huge speech. Ron groaned in annoyance. He looked like he was about to collapse backward out of the bench seat. Dumbledore was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.

"I have only two words to say to you," Dumbledore told us, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. I groaned in annoyance. That wasn't a big speech. "Tuck in."

"Oh, come on. That wasn't long enough..." I moaned.

"Hear, hear!" Harry and Ron said loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes.

Everyone on our end of the table laughed. I grinned happily as Pumpkin Juice filled my goblet and chicken legs appeared on my plate. While dinner might have been marvelous, I was really looking forward to dessert. Nothing ever beat dessert at Hogwarts. Chocolate cakes and pies and crepes that went beyond where the eye could see. My mouth watered at the anticipation. Nearly Headless Nick was watching mournfully as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I loaded our own plates. The boys had enough food to feed a small village.

"Aaah, 'at's be'er," Ron said, with his mouth full of mashed potato.

"You're disgusting," I groaned.

Ron merely stared at me. I had a feeling that he was half tempted to show me his half-eaten dinner. "You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know. There was trouble in the kitchens earlier," Nearly Headless Nick said.

"Why? Wha' 'appened?" Harry asked, through a sizable chunk of steak.

"Both of you. Were you raised in a damn barn?" I snapped.

"I was raised on a farm," Ron pointed out.

"But not in a barn," I hissed.

"I was raised in a cupboard under the stairs," Harry said.

"Oh, shut up," I mumbled. "We both know that the Dursley's would have never let you talk with your mouth full of food. Which, come to think of it, is probably why you're doing it." Harry grinned.

"Peeves, of course," Nearly Headless Nick said, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck. I rolled my eyes. I definitely didn't miss Peeves over the summer. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast - well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council - the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance - but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."

The very thought of having Peeves at the start-of-term feast was horrifying. That was a good way to make sure that no new students ever wanted to come to Hogwarts. Peeves was bad enough during the occasional passing in the halls. The Bloody Baron was the Slytherin ghost, a gaunt and silent specter covered in silver bloodstains. He was the only person at Hogwarts who could really control Peeves. He was also one of the only ghosts who genuinely scared any of the students - mostly because he never spoke. I had only ever heard him laugh menacingly.

"Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something," Ron said darkly. I snorted under my breath. "So, what did he do in the kitchens?"

"Oh the usual," Nearly Headless Nick said, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup." It was kind of pathetic that things like that were normal around here. "Terrified the house-elves out of their wits -"

There was a terribly loud clang. Everyone around the table jumped. We had drawn attention from people at all of the other tables. Hermione had knocked over her golden goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange, but Hermione paid no attention. I groaned as some of it spilled into my lap. I jumped up and started dabbing at the stains all over my new robes. There goes another pair of robes. Every year, I had managed to ruin at least one pair.

"Hermione!" I growled, glaring at her. "Watch it."

She completely ignored me. "There are house-elves here? Here at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, staring, horror-struck, at Nearly Headless Nick.

"Certainly," Nearly Headless Nick said, looking surprised at her reaction. "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."

"I've never seen one!" Hermione said loudly.

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they? They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning... see to the fires and so on... I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?" Nearly Headless Nick said.

It had never really occurred to me that someone other than Filtch worked in the castle. It was stupid of me. I had really figured that someone just used magic to clean and make everything. I raised a brow. Did house-elves really do everything in the castle? Hermione made a good point. I had never seen any of the house-elves hanging around. Although, Nearly Headless Nick made a point. Most house-elves avoided being seen by the masters that they served. Hermione didn't understand the point, though. She was just staring at him.

She might not have understood the point, but the rest of us did. "They're slaves and servants, Hermione," I told her gently. She turned a horrified look on me. "That's literally the point of them."

"That's disgusting!" Hermione gasped.

"I never said it was nice," I mumbled.

"But they get paid? They get holidays, don't they? And - and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?" Hermione asked.

Was she joking? That was the entire point of my previous mention. The house-elves were barely considered to be living beings. There was no way that they were going to get perks that some normal human workers didn't even get. Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck. I groaned in disgust and looked away, glad that I hadn't eaten too much already. It had always been hard for me to stomach his half-severed neck.

"Sick leave and pensions?" Nearly Headless Nick asked, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. Yep. There comes my dinner. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!"

They would think that it was insulting if we tried to offer them anything that a normal worker would ask for. It was definitely sad but it would have taken years and generations to try and upend all of the training that house-elves had ingrained into them. Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her. I rolled my eyes at her. Starving herself wasn't going to do anything from anyone. All it would do would annoy me as she started to get grouchier from hunger.

"Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," Ron said, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops - sorry."

"Ron!" I yelped in disgust.

"'Arry -" Ron swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"

"Slave labor," Hermione growled, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labor."

"Yeah, well you're not doing them any good by starving yourself to death," I pointed out.

"I'm not eating this," Hermione snarled.

"So, you're planning on dying, then?" I asked. "That's a truly brilliant way to help them."

Hermione didn't answer. I laughed at her. She was being a complete moron and I knew that she was going to eventually give in. There wasn't the slightest chance that she was going to keep going on this one. Within a day or two, she would start starving and give in. I supposed the only thing left to do would be to let her just have her pissing contest with herself tonight. The boys looked shocked that she was even semi-serious about the entire thing. She wouldn't be bending tonight, at least. Throughout the rest of the meal, Hermione refused to eat another bite.

By the end of the meal, the rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass. I was hoping that it would be warm and sunny by the time we had Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures. Those classes were both awful when we had weather like this. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings. I smiled brilliantly. I just wished that the house-elves had made their chocolate cake tonight.

"Treacle tart, Hermione!" Ron said, deliberately wafting its smell toward her. "Spotted dick, look! Chocolate gateau!"

Did they really have to use names like that? I knew that Americans had some extremely strangely named foods, but it was nothing compared to the ones that they had here in England or Scotland. They really weren't good at naming foods. Hermione then gave him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall that he gave up. I shrugged at him, silently letting him know that it would be best to just leave her to her own devices. She would eat again when she was starving - either in the morning or at lunchtime.

When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. I straightened up slightly. This was it. I knew that this was the moment that we were all going to find out whether or not it was really the Triwizard Tournament that was going on at Hogwarts this year. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard. Everyone had been waiting for this all evening.

"So!" Dumbledore said, smiling around at us all. "Now that we are all fed and watered."

"Hmph!" Hermione huffed.

"Shut up!" I snapped at her.

"I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices," Dumbledore continued. I exchanged a look with Cedric, across the hall. "Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-Yo's, Fanged Frisbee's, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. The older students all began chuckling. We all knew that no one would even dare set foot near Filch's office. That was a surefire way to end up getting detention for at least a few nights. I glanced over at the twins, both of whom were looking back at me. Each winked. I laughed at them. There was no doubt that the twins were the reason that over half of those things on the list were now banned. They would definitely manage to add onto it this year, just as they did every year.

Dumbledore continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below Third Year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" Harry gasped.

That's not the Triwizard Tournament. I jumped to my feet and shouted, "That's rubbish!"

"Sit down!" Hermione hissed.

We were supposed to be having a good time this year. Not having the Inter-House Quidditch Cup was one of the best parts of the school year! All around us, the Quidditch players in each House were staring at each other in shock. Hermione wrapped a hand around my robes and yanked me back down into my seat. Cedric looked stunned but was also laughing at my reaction. Harry was dumbfounded. I looked around at Fred and George, my fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak.

Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely." I gasped. This was it. The Triwizard Tournament! "This castle will not only be your home this year but home to some very special guests as well. You see Hogwarts has been chosen -"

Before Dumbledore got the chance to tell us all what was going on, the doors to the Great Hall opened. We all looked back to see Filch come running up the aisle in between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables. He was running whilst pulling his knees almost all the way up to his chest. He darted up to Dumbledore and whispered something that no one else could hear. He then turned and ran off in the same fashion. I snorted under my breath in amusement. I certainly wasn't the only one. But Filch only glared at me. So, apparently, we still weren't on good terms.

"Still hates you, I see," Fred said.

"Shocking," I muttered.

"You did try to kill his cat," Fred said.

"Shut up!" I snapped. "I'm going to kill you."

Fred was referencing the moment that had truly made Filch hate me more than he ever had - and he'd never genuinely liked me before. Back in Second Year when a Basilisk had been set loose by the memory of Voldemort to attack the Muggle-Born's in the castle, Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, had been one of the beings to be petrified. Unfortunately, the four of us had been there at the time. My hand had been on her chest to check for a heartbeat when Filch had seen me. He had thought that I'd killed her and attempted to strangle me. I had never gotten an apology and never forgiven him.

Once Filch had vanished back out of the doors, Dumbledore continued. "I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open again. I threw my head back in annoyance. Were we ever going to get on with the announcement of what was going on at Hogwarts this year? Most people ended up screaming at the sudden bang. Unlike Filch's comical entrance, this time had definitely been a lot more frightening. I glanced back and stared at the double doors. My jaw almost dropped at what I saw.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Was that really who I thought that it was? It certainly looked like it. Of all of the times that I could have been right about something... Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table. Oh, yeah. It would certainly be an interesting year for us.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. I stared at him in surprise. Even though I had suggested that Mad-Eye Moody might have been our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, I had never thought that I genuinely might have been right. I was surprised that my parents hadn't mentioned his appointment to me. Moody reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione - and many other students - gasped.

The lightning had thrown Moody's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any I had ever seen. Mad-Eye Moody was even scarier-looking than the stories made him out to be. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. There was a nasty scar over his cheek. But it was Moody's eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye - and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head so that all we could see was whiteness. It was his magical eye. I knew that it allowed him to see all around him and through most objects, including walls. It was held in place by an eye patch that went over his forehead and wrapped over the back of his head.

Mad-Eye Moody reached Dumbledore. Everyone was staring at him like he was the newest exhibit in a museum. Which, I supposed, he kind of was. Moody stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words that none of us could hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of Moody, who shook his head and replied in an undertone. I hadn't seen him smile - or give any hint of emotion - since walking into the Great Hall. Dumbledore nodded and gestured Moody to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

Moody sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students. Everyone awkwardly shifted around in their seats, presumably waiting for Dumbledore to explain who the hell the newest addition was.

Harry leaned over to me and spoke so quietly that I almost didn't hear him. "Is that -?"

"I believe so," I whispered back, terrified that he might hear me. "Mad-Eye Moody."

"You were right," Harry mumbled.

"Honestly, I was kind of hoping that I was wrong," I said, even more nervous now that I was seeing him fully, and he was seeing me. "He's a little..."

"Scary?" Ron filled in.

"Yep. That's one word for it," I muttered.

Finally, Dumbledore stepped back to his podium in the center of the head table. "May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Dumbledore offered brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students chapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him. Even the Slytherin's looked completely stunned by the new addition. The tense air was much different than the polite smattering of applause that Remus Lupin had gotten last year.

"Moody?" Harry muttered to Ron. He still sounded disbelieving about the entire thing. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be," Ron said in a low, awed voice.

"What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?"

"Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.

Did they ever listen to me? "He was an Auror," I explained to them. They all nodded at me blankly. "He got in a lot of fights with some pretty dangerous witches and wizards over the years."

But I hadn't been expecting him to look quite the way that he did. Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long drought from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and I saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot. Moody shuddered from whatever it was that he was drinking. Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"What's that he's drinking do you suppose?" Seamus whispered to us.

"I don't know, but I don't think it's pumpkin juice," Harry whispered back.

"Probably Firewhisky," I offered quietly.

That was the only drink I'd ever seen someone shudder that much from. "As I was saying," Dumbledore continued, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody. Everyone was too focused on Moody to even give Dumbledore a thought. "We are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

So, I was right. We were hosting the Triwizard Tournament. "You're JOKING!" Fred yelled loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively. If I hadn't been so distracted from what Fred had just said, I would have jumped to my feet with anticipation. We would all really get the chance to enter into a competition that hadn't been played in hundreds of years. I was smiling brilliantly. Maybe I would be able to get over the fact that we weren't going to have an Inter-House Quidditch Cup this year. I slowly turned back to Fred and rolled my eyes. He still looked baffled.

"Freddie..." I muttered. He was still staring open-mouthed at Dumbledore. "Say it a little louder, why don't you?"

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley, though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar," Dumbledore continued, smiling.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly. Fred and George were already muttering to each other about how they were planning on entering the tournament and splitting the winnings. I smiled at them. I should have known that they were planning on entering. They really could have used that prize money. I certainly didn't need it, but I really would have loved to do something without having my name attached to Harry's. This could have been the chance to do something all on my own. It could have been an interesting Fourth Year for me.

"That's so awesome!" I chirped brightly.

"Going to enter?" Fred asked me curiously.

Did I actually have enough nerve to throw my name in the ring? I wasn't completely positive. "Eh... I don't know," I told him honestly. "But I definitely can't wait to watch."

"Er - but maybe this is not the time... no... Where was I?" Dumbledore asked, realizing that Professor McGonagall was warning him against the joke, which I actually kind of wanted to hear. "Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament... Well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Wicked..." Fred mumbled, grinning.

"That's what you find fascinating?" I asked disbelievingly.

"Where's your sense of adventure?" Fred asked me happily.

My jaw dropped. "You stole my line."

Although I probably deserved it, after the many times I had used it against him. Fred grinned and stole two cookies off of my plate, tossing one to George. I scowled at them but didn't push it any further. They had already taken my food and there was no way that I could get it back without having to attack them, which would have certainly resulted in me getting detention for at least a week. No, I would have to settle with just glaring at them and promising that I would get them back for it later.

"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed.

Nothing had been that safe three hundred years ago. I wasn't that concerned about it. Neither, did it seem, was anyone else. Her anxiety definitely did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another. My mind was already off in the far reaches of what could await the person (me) who won the tournament. I was far more interested in hearing about the structure of the redone tournament than in worrying about deaths that had happened hundreds of years ago.

Since Hermione was still muttering nervously, I leaned over to her. "The tasks were so dangerous that kids were getting way in over their heads. They were going in too young and unprepared," I whispered.

"And they think that it's a good idea to bring it back?" Hermione asked.

"Shut up, Hermione," I groaned at her.

This was a wonderful idea! Finally, something dangerous and actually fun that we could do! "There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament, none of which has been very successful," Dumbledore continued, over the rising chatter in the hall. "However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween," Dumbledore said. I smiled. In a month we would be meeting other students from all over the country. "An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

Impartial, my ass. They were always going to be slightly biased. "I'm going for it!" Fred hissed from down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches.

"Maybe I'll go for it," I said dreamily.

"Really?" Hermione asked, looking quite shocked about the entire thing.

"I'm thinking about it," I said honestly.

Wouldn't that be fun? To compete in something that was voluntary, for once, and maybe not be risking my life for it. Fred Weasley was definitely not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, I could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. It seemed that students of all ages were debating on whether or not they had what it took to become the Hogwarts champion. It was the one time we had all been on board with the exact same thing. Everyone wanted to be the champion.

Naturally, only one of us would actually become the Hogwarts champion. I glanced off proudly, still thinking about myself getting crowned the Triwizard Tournament champion when I met eyes with Cedric. His chest was puffed out proudly. Oh, yeah... He was probably thinking about entering the tournament. I would have gladly thrown my support to him. But this was also the perfect time to throw it back in Malfoy's face. Cedric slowly turned to me and nodded, seemingly confirming that he was going for it. Eventually, Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts, the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year," Dumbledore continued. There was a lot of looks exchanged between the younger students, myself included. "Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration."

What? It meant that I couldn't enter. "That's rubbish!" Fred and George shouted together, rising to their feet.

"You don't know what you're doing!" George yelled.

"Oh, come on!" I yelped, disappointed.

This," Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, myself included, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious, "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below Sixth and Seventh Year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion."

His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. Damn it... We really weren't going to get a chance to enter in the Triwizard Tournament? I couldn't believe that I wouldn't be able. But, at least I would be able to throw my support to someone else. It definitely wouldn't be Fred or George. Having been born on April Fool's Day, they wouldn't be seventeen until months after the Triwizard Tournament began. They were just slightly too young to put their names forward.

Dumbledore continued. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen."

"Damn it... There goes that idea..." I mumbled.

"You really wanted to do it?" Hermione asked me.

"I was definitely thinking about it," I told her.

There was definitely some disappointment in my chest. I really had wanted to at least throw my name into the ring. It could have been fun to at least get excited over potentially getting my name pulled. I looked up again and smiled at Cedric, who was looking even happier. Despite being a Sixth Year, he would be seventeen at the beginning of October, just before the drawing of the names. He would be able to put his name forward. I supposed that I would just have to be content with supporting him. At least, this time, it would be someone else risking their life this year.

The twins were muttering mutinously down at their end of the table. I grinned. They definitely weren't going to be ready to give up on this as easily as I was. Of course, they needed that money to start their joke shop. I knew that the two of them would be trying to figure out a way to submit their names anyway. After all, the Goblet of Fire was a binding contract. If they were to be picked, it wouldn't matter how old they were. They would be in the tournament. But it definitely wouldn't be easy to fool Dumbledore.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected," Dumbledore continued. "And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

It was definitely exciting. I knew that the next month would be interesting. We would all be constantly talking about and wondering who was going to get picked as the Hogwarts champion. But now everyone was muttering among themselves about whether or not they could still somehow get their names put in. Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall. I'd have to ask Cedric tonight about his plans.

"They can't do that!" George said furiously, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. I laid a hand on his shoulder and shoved him forward. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"

"They're not stopping me entering," Fred said stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. "The champions will get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"

"Yeah," Ron mumbled, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons..."

As they continued chattering among themselves, I threw myself forward in between the twins. "So... will you two tell me how you're planning on beating the Goblet of Fire?" I asked them, throwing my arms over their shoulders.

"Once we figure it out," Fred said.

"Help us?" George asked.

If any of us was going to get the chance to get into the Triwizard Tournament, it definitely should have been one of them. "You're closer to seventeen than me. Sure," I said carelessly.

"You wanted to enter?" Fred asked.

"Yeah. Kind of. Throw it in Malfoy's face," I explained. The twins laughed. "Surprised I'd want to?"

"I'd cheer you on as you get flattened by a giant snake or something like that," Fred teased.

"I've already beaten a giant snake," I pointed out. "Try again, asshole."

"Language, Tara," Fred said playfully.

He laughed again as I whacked him over the back of his head. "Come on, we'll be the only ones left here if you don't move," Hermione told us.

She was the only one who didn't seem to care even the slightest bit about the upcoming Triwizard Tournament. Of course, she had always been the one who had blatantly tried following the rules. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and I set off for the entrance hall, Fred and George debating the ways in which Dumbledore might stop those who were under seventeen from entering the tournament. I grinned at them. It definitely wasn't going to be anything cruel, but it would probably be a pretty good joke to embarrass the perpetrator.

"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" Harry asked.

"Dunno, but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George..." Fred said knowledgeably.

"It's not a person. It's a goblet that chooses," I told them.

"What?" Harry asked, baffled.

"I don't know. That's just how it works," I said.

"Even easier!" Fred said happily. "An inanimate object."

Were they that clueless? It was probably going to make things even harder. But I would have liked seeing them try and figure things out. "But it's able to kind of read a person based on the name that they submit. The Goblet of Fire will know that you're underage. You'll have to do something really drastic if you want your name to get picked," I explained.

"Would it matter?" Harry asked.

"Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though," Ron pointed out.

"The goblet's a binding contract. If your name is drawn, you're in," I told them.

"That seems dangerous," Hermione said suspiciously.

I would have thought, by now, that Hermione would have understood that nothing in this school was genuinely safe. It was part of going to a school that used magic for everything. "But it would never let someone underage submit their name," I said, not entirely sure if that was true. "Oh, who cares? We'll find out in a few weeks."

"Yeah, but Dumbledore's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" Fred asked shrewdly. For once, he wasn't completely wrong. Maybe the goblet could pick someone who was underage. "Sounds to me like once the goblet knows who wants to enter, it'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving our names."

"The goblet might end up ignoring your names," I pointed out.

"Worth a try, right?" Fred asked.

"Sure. What's the worst that could happen?" I said.

There was no way that Dumbledore would curse the goblet. They might be a little surprised and embarrassed, but it wouldn't kill them. "People have died, though!" Hermione said in a worried voice as we walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another, narrower staircase.

"Yeah, but that was years ago, wasn't it?" Fred asked airily. "Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk?"

"There's a good way to go about it," I said, giggling.

"Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?" Fred asked his brother.

"What do you reckon?" Ron asked Harry, who looked to still be in deep thought. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I suppose they might want someone older... Dunno if we've learned enough..."

"I'd do it," I said brightly.

"I'd root for you," Ron said, piping up.

"Thanks," I said happily.

"We wouldn't," the twins said together.

"Thanks, boys," I deadpanned.

"We need that prize money," Fred pointed out.

"You don't," George added.

"Okay, I suppose that's a fair point," I conceded.

"I definitely haven't," Nevile's gloomy voice came from behind Fred and George. "I expect my gran would want me to try, though. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honor. I'll just have to - oops..."

Neville's foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. I frowned at the sight of him. I'd gotten caught up in those stairs before, but not since my First Year when I was still learning my way around the castle. There were many of those kinds of trick stairs at Hogwarts; it was second nature to most of the older students to jump that particular step, but Neville's memory was notoriously poor. Harry and Ron seized him under the armpits and pulled him out, while a suit of armor at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily.

"You okay, Neville?" I asked, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Fine. Thanks..." Neville muttered awkwardly.

"Shut it, you," Ron said, banging down the visor of the suit of armor as we passed.

The suits of armor didn't like most of the students seeing as we were all so destructive. They hadn't liked me since I had toppled them over after slamming headfirst into Fred and George one afternoon. Not talking anymore, we made our way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress. We all stared at each other. None of us were Prefects which meant that none of us knew the password to get into the Common Room.

"Password?" the Fat Lady asked as we approached.

"Balderdash, a Prefect downstairs told me," George said.

The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which we all climbed. At least this time, Neville didn't trip over it, as he so often did. A crackling fire warmed the circular Common Room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. I smiled at the sight of it. I had genuinely missed being here. Hermione cast the merrily dancing flames a dark look, and I distinctly heard her mutter 'Slave labor' before bidding us a brief good night and disappearing through the doorway to the girls' dormitory. She hadn't even bothered to wait for me.

"Uh... goodnight!" I yelled after her. She didn't respond.

"She'll get over it," Ron said.

But it likely wouldn't happen until the middle of the day tomorrow, which meant that she would be annoying me for the next twelve hours. "When she realizes that starving herself to death isn't exactly helping the house-elves," I told them. "Alright, boys. I'm going to bed. See you in the morning."

"Night, Tara," Harry said.

"See you tomorrow," Ron added.

Harry, Ron, Neville, and I climbed up the last, spiral staircase until we had all reached our own dormitories, which were both situated at the top of the tower. I said a final goodnight to the others quickly, ducking into their dorm for a brief second. Dean and Seamus were already getting into bed; Seamus had pinned his Ireland rosette to his headboard, and Dean had tacked up a poster of Viktor Krum over his bedside table. His old poster of the West Ham football team was pinned right next to it. I gave the two of them a hug before ducking back out.

Once I had let them know that I would see them again in the morning, I headed back out of the boys' dormitory and walked into the girls'. Five four-poster beds with deep crimson hangings stood against the walls, each with its owner's trunk at the foot. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown were already in bed. They were chattering with each other happily. Fay Dunbar looked like she was already half-asleep. Hermione was in the middle of getting ready for bed, still muttering to herself about the treatment of the house-elves.

"Hermione, you're going mental. Starving yourself isn't the way to go about this," I sighed, shaking my head at Lavender's endless supply of glittery makeup and overly-colored clothing.

"It's slave-labor!" Hermione gasped.

"They're kept warm and well-fed in the castle. This is better than most of the house-elves could ever dream of," I argued.

"It's attitudes like that..." Hermione muttered.

This definitely wasn't a conversation that I was prepared to have tonight. "Okay, fine. Goodnight," I told her bluntly.

"There has to be something we can do," Hermione said suddenly.

"We?" I repeated, shaking my head. "I think not."

"You're all for them being treated like slaves?" Hermione asked.

Better to appreciate the fact that they were being treated well here rather than trying - and failing - to make any headway on their equality. "They might not be paid but they're being housed and fed and kept safe and sound. Paying them would be an insult to their own pride. They were made to be servants. They're used to it," I tried to point out. "It's going to take a lot more than a determined teenager to change that."

"But -" Hermione started.

"Go to bed!" I yelled.

Parvati, Lavender, and Fay all jumped and snapped at us to be quiet. I rolled my eyes and flopped over in bed, facing Hermione. The five of us all quickly got changed - myself trying not to get too messy, considering my upcoming date - and got back into bed. Someone - a house-elf, no doubt - had placed warming pans between the sheets. It was extremely comfortable, lying there in bed and listening to the storm raging outside. I was half surprised that Hermione hadn't thrown the warming pan in her sheets onto the floor.

"I might go in for it, you know, if Fred and George find out how to... the tournament... you never know, do you?" I told Hermione through the darkness.

"That's a death sentence," Hermione responded.

"Maybe not," I replied.

If they were bringing back the Triwizard Tournament, there was no way that it was going to be that brutal. Probably scarier rather than anything else. I laid back in bed again and stared up at the ceiling, thinking about the upcoming tournament. There was definitely no way that we were going to be allowed to compete. Any of us. Especially not me. I was far too young. But I could always think and dream about it. In the meantime, I knew exactly who was going to be competing - at least, who would actually be allowed to compete.

Definitely Cedric. It would have shocked me if he wasn't planning on competing. He had seemed excited about this in the weeks leading up to our return to Hogwarts. I had seen that look on his face when we were sitting together in the Great Hall. He had looked so proud. I was positive that he was planning on entering. He was just within the age bracket. I smiled at the thought. At least I would have someone that I knew well enough that it wouldn't feel weird to root for him just because he was from Hogwarts.

A few hours passed that I spent reading and sorting my things and thinking about the tournament. I would definitely be the first one who got themselves unpacked. I didn't want to lay down and potentially end up falling asleep. I would never hear the end of it from Cedric. So, I worked in relative silence. Thankfully, none of the other girls heard me. I knew that they would start questioning what I was doing and I didn't want anyone to know about those midnight meetups that I had in the Astronomy Tower with Cedric.

When the clocks throughout Hogwarts finally began chiming that midnight had come, I slowly slipped from my bed, still in my pajamas, and started heading toward the Astronomy Tower. It was a long walk from the Gryffindor Common Room all the way there. The Astronomy Tower was on the other side of the school. It wasn't the smartest idea to wander through the halls without the Invisibility Cloak, but I had forgotten to ask for it and I wasn't sure if Harry would have let me borrow it anyway. I wasn't really sure that I was concerned about it anyway.

If the Hufflepuff Prefect, Cedric Diggory, could make it to the Astronomy Tower without one, so could I. There was no way that I was letting him outdo me in the rule-breaking area. I wound through the halls and up the staircases that led to the Astronomy Tower as quickly as possible, grateful that I hadn't yet run into Peeves. I assumed that he was downstairs, causing a ruckus in the kitchens again. Eventually, I arrived at the spiral staircase that led to the tower and clambered up it. Cedric was already there, seated against the bars. He turned back to me and grinned.

"Look who's on time," Cedric teased.

"So, tell me, are you entering in the Triwizard Tournament?" I asked immediately, not bothering to beat around the bush.

"Hello to you, too," Cedric said.

"Come on. Tell me," I goaded.

Cedric grinned. "Here. For you."

Cedric reached back and tossed a wrapped Chocolate Frog at me, which I just barely managed to catch. "Ah. Thank you," I said happily, beginning to unwrap it. "Now are you going to tell me whether or not you're entering the tournament?"

But I knew that he was going to let me sweat this one out for a while. I supposed that I deserved it. Cedric grinned again and motioned me toward the bars. I walked over and dropped down next to him, watching the moon off in the distance. Cedric's arms wound around my shoulders as I smiled and leaned up against his shoulder. It was a nice night out - slightly breezy but still warm. It would be bitter cold in a matter of weeks. We stared up at the moon together for a long while as I chewed on my Chocolate Frog, waiting for Cedric to tell me the truth.

"I'm entering, Tara," Cedric said suddenly.

I lifted my head off of his shoulder. "You're really going to do it?"

"Surprised?" Cedric asked.

"I'm impressed," I said honestly. He beamed. "You're really going to go for it?"

"Dad told me about the tournament a few weeks ago," Cedric said. I furrowed my brows. Why hadn't my parents told me? "I started thinking about it more and more and I realized that I really want to give it a shot. This is the kind of glory that Hufflepuff has never gotten. I've always wanted to do something great and this would really be a good chance."

The passion in his voice was more than I'd ever heard before. He was serious about this. I smiled at him. Maybe this was my warning that I really shouldn't have made an attempt to enter the competition. Especially given that I was underage by a few years. I likely wouldn't have been able to make it work anyway. Dumbledore was much smarter than I was. I would have never been able to outsmart him. But Cedric would be seventeen in a few weeks. It would be nice to support someone else and not just because they were from Hogwarts.

So, I finally said, "You have my full support, then."

Cedric's head whipped around to me. He looked shocked. "I do?" he asked.

"You look surprised," I said.

"Honestly, I thought that you might want to try and enter yourself," Cedric said.

"You know me well," I teased.

"Believe it or not, I do," Cedric replied.

He did. With the exception of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Cedric probably knew me best. I leaned forward and pressed a long kiss against his mouth. Cedric smiled into it, raising his hand up to my hair and knotting it in. We stayed together for a long time as Cedric pushed me up against the bars over the edge of the Astronomy Tower. I smiled as I threw my legs up into his lap. It was well over ten minutes later that we finally pulled apart, laughing at each other. We definitely couldn't do that in the middle of the day, in between classes.

Cedric threaded his hand with mine as I leaned up against his shoulder. "I really thought about entering the tournament," I admitted. Cedric laughed, probably already well-aware that I had been planning on giving it a shot. "There's got to be some way to fool the Goblet of Fire into thinking that I'm older. But Dumbledore will be watching and I'm sure he'll think of something comically cruel to do to those who try and enter even though they're underage. But if my name were to get pulled when I'm still two years too young, I'll get in way more trouble than I've ever been in before.

In all honesty, I had probably thought about how to enter the Triwizard Tournament way too much. "Those are all good reasons to keep yourself from entering," Cedric said, laughing. "Maybe let someone else have the spotlight for the year?"

"Well, if I have to give it up," I teased, moaning pitifully. Cedric laughed. "I think you can do it."

"Get picked?" Cedric asked.

That had to come first. He wouldn't be in the Triwizard Tournament unless his name was drawn from the Goblet of Fire. "Yeah. It evaluates who it thinks is the most worthy person in the school. They'd be hard-pressed to find someone who's more well-rounded," I told him truthfully. "You're good at almost everything in school, you're brave and kind and, let's face it, we'd all have an easy time supporting you."

"Why's that?" Cedric asked.

"Don't be stupid," I huffed. Cedric arched a brow. Guess I'm going to have to admit it. "I'm not the only person in the school who likes looking at you."

There was no doubt in my mind that Cedric Diggory was one of the most attractive people in Hogwarts. He laughed loudly as I winked playfully at him. I pulled myself out of his grasp and leaned back against the stone on the floor. No near-death experiences this year. That was something that I could definitely get used to. Although, it had occurred to me, what would I do with my time? I supposed that I would have to help Cedric with the tasks in the tournament. I was too nosy to keep to myself. I would have to see what was going on.

It went without saying that Cedric knew I wouldn't leave him alone during the tournament. I liked being involved in things. Cedric sat up for a few more minutes, watching the moon, before finally coming to lay down next to me. I immediately tucked my head down into his shoulder. A second later I felt Cedric's fingers press underneath my chin. He pulled my head up to meet his own, pressing a long kiss against my mouth. When we finally broke apart, I settled back into his chest, completely content on staying here all night.

"You really have faith, then?" Cedric finally asked.

"I do," I said honestly.

He looked quite proud of himself. I smiled at him. "Some of your friends probably won't like that," Cedric pointed out.

The last thing any of them would want was me supporting Cedric. "No, probably not. I've got a vague idea that a lot of the Sixth and Seventh Years in Gryffindor want to enter and I'm pretty sure that they think that they'll be picked," I told him awkwardly. "You know..."

Cedric waved off my concern. "Hey, no, I get it. Gryffindor's tend to get most of the glory. They always have. They'll probably be expecting one of theirs to be picked."

Unfortunately, he was right. "I'm sure they will," I replied. They would likely think that they would get their name pulled, but I genuinely thought that it would be Cedric. He just seemed so right for being the Hogwarts champion. He was all of the best qualities of all of the Houses. "Fred and George really want to enter but they're a few months too young."

Cedric laughed. He must have known that they would give it a try. "So, I can imagine that we're going to see the two of them doing something magnificent to try and enter?" Cedric asked.

"Oh, they'll figure something out," I said, laughing at the thought. "I'm thinking of suggesting an Aging Potion."

"You think that'll work?" Cedric asked me disbelievingly.

"Not at all," I said quickly, waving him off. There was no way that an Aging Potion would fool Dumbledore. That was likely the most obvious answer for someone to put their name forward. "I think Dumbledore's way smarter than an Aging Potion. But I'm also kind of curious to see what happens when the Goblet of Fire has someone underage enter."

It was Fred and George, after all. They could take a joke. "You're terrible," Cedric said, laughing.

"Yeah," I answered bluntly.

But I was only a little bit terrible. It was mostly just for good fun. I didn't want either one of them to get seriously hurt. We both laughed at my blunt answer as I wrapped a hand around Cedric's shirt and pulled him into me. Cedric laughed again as I pressed a lingering kiss against his mouth. Cedric grinned into the kiss as he pushed me underneath himself, down against the stone. Cedric's hands wound up to tangle in my hair. We remained locked together, our legs wrapped around each other's, for a long time. I giggled happily against his mouth.

When we finally pulled apart, I threw my legs over his, laying back against the stone. "What kind of tasks do you think the champions will have to do?" I asked curiously.

Cedric hummed thoughtfully. "In past years I know that they've done obstacle courses," Cedric said. I hummed thoughtfully at him. That could have been kind of cool. "Part of it will be physical. Then there will be a chance to test your knowledge of spells. Difficult transfiguration and maybe a chance to prove that you understand potions."

"Sounds kind of like what we went through in our First Year," I said.

"Hmm?"

"Back in First Year, when we were down in the dungeons, we went through this obstacle course type thing that had been set up by the teachers to protect the Sorcerer's Stone," I told Cedric. I hadn't actually explained to him exactly what had happened when we had gone down into the dungeons. "There was Fluffy - a three-headed dog - the Devil's Snare, the hunt for the correct key, the giant chessboard, the riddle with the potions, and the question of how to find the Stone."

Cedric started laughing. "That must have been fascinating."

"Would have been a lot more interesting had Voldemort not tried to kill us immediately after," I said honestly.

Cedric twitched slightly. "Right... I always forget about that little tidbit."

"Uh-huh," I muttered disbelievingly.

"What?"

"I saw how panicked you were after. You looked the same way after the Chamber of Secrets."

"Maybe if you'd stop putting your life in danger."

"What fun would that be?"

Cedric laughed. "You're right. Silly me. What fun could something be if you didn't have to risk your life for it?"

"Says the one who's going to enter the Triwizard Tournament," I shot back.

"You'll be cheering for me, right?" Cedric asked.

"As long as you win," I replied.

"Tara!" Cedric gasped.

"I can't be seen cheering for a loser," I gasped.

He merely stared at me. "You are a terrible person."

"But you like me anyway," I teased.

"Merlin knows why that is," Cedric huffed.

In the back of my mind, I had a feeling that Cedric might have just had the slightest inkling that I wasn't the best kind of person. He would have been right about that. I might have been fun and goofy, but I was also definitely not the best person in the world. Thankfully, Cedric had never seemed to mind that much. I barked out a laugh at Cedric as pulled me in for another long kiss. We stayed locked together as Cedric pushed the hair back off of my forehead. We stayed with our legs tangled together for a long time before finally breaking apart.

I stared off at the stars for a little while, thinking about the upcoming tournament. "It'll be so cool to get to see people from the other wizarding schools. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang," I said. Cedric nodded his agreement. "Not that I really care much for those schools."

Cedric chuckled. "Do you care for any schools other than Ilvermorny or Hogwarts?"

"No," I answered immediately.

"Of course not."

It was too good of an opportunity to pass up. "But if they made a school specifically for Irish Quidditch players, then we'd be talking," I teased, rolling onto my stomach to face Cedric.

He grinned bitterly at me, well-aware that I was messing with him. "If we're going to play that way, how about we talk about your fondness for a particular Ravenclaw student?" Cedric shot back.

My grin immediately fell. I searched the far reaches of my mind to try and remember if I had ever told Cedric the exact reason that I didn't like Cho Chang. Had I really admitted to him that I hated her because she had a crush on him? Idiot... Why would I have ever said that? Maybe I hadn't. Maybe my hatred of her was really that obvious. If anyone would have noticed, it was definitely him. I supposed that it didn't really matter now. He clearly knew, judging by the way that Cedric was grinning at me.

"Touché, my friend," I conceded.

"As your friend, let me tell you something," Cedric said. I laughed at his statement. "You're not very discreet."

I laughed. "I wasn't trying to be discreet."

I'd never tried to be discreet, but I had also hoped that he hadn't noticed. "I'm not interested in Cho Chang, nor will I ever be. She is my friend and nothing more," Cedric said.

"Well, this would be a bad place to tell me that you were interested in her. That's about a fifty story plunge to the ground," I pointed out.

Cedric laughed. "You wouldn't kill me."

"Nah..." I admitted. But if he ever told me that he had a crush on Cho Chang, I would definitely kick him where the sun didn't shine. "I guess I'd miss you. Just a little bit."

"You already said you would miss me, you can't take it back!" Cedric yelped.

"Damn me," I groaned.

We both laughed as we leaned back on the stone floor together. I wished that he had brought a blanket or that I had the Invisibility Cloak to sleep on. My head was tucked down into his shoulder as I rested against his hip. For a long while, we remained silent, watching the night sky and enjoying a few moments of privacy that we never got to enjoy otherwise. When classes started again, it would be almost impossible for us to get a moment alone. The teachers were very careful about letting two students go off in private together.

Eventually, we started chatting again. Our conversation quickly evolved into one about the Triwizard Tournament. We talked about everything. The ones that we had heard of before, the tasks that could have been prepared, and who else we thought might have been trying to put their name forward. There were multiple Sixth and Seventh Years in every House who would want to put their names forward. Cedric had a feeling that some of his own friends were also planning on putting forward their names. But even they were determined that he would likely get pulled.

But that only lasted for so long. Like any good teenagers who were sneaking out in the middle of the night, we spent a lot of times connected at the mouth. His hands rested down against my hips as mine wound around the back of his neck. I pressed one of my hands against the back of Cedric's neck, ensuring that he couldn't back away. Not that I thought that he was planning on moving away anytime soon. And that was the truth. It was well over an hour later when we finally pulled back with swollen lips and mussed hair.

"So... I see Colin Creevey's, Harry Potter/Tara Nox fan club is continuing to grow," Cedric teased.

"Oh, shut up," I growled.

It wasn't funny. It was awkward for everyone involved. "You just go so red when they talk to you," Cedric chuckled giddily. "Although, it's nothing compared to how red he goes when you talk to him."

"I'm going to give Phil Troy a call, how about that?" I shot back.

"At this point, it seems that you'll be able to add him to the fan club," Cedric teased.

"Ugh," I groaned, annoyed that he wouldn't play into my game.

Cedric grinned brightly. "Didn't get the answer you wanted?"

"I'm not giving you the satisfaction," I snapped.

Cedric laughed, running his hand over my hipbone. "What do you say we go back to our Common Rooms?"

"Maybe a few more minutes," I said playfully.

Cedric's lips turned up in a smile. "Oh, good. That was the answer I was hoping for."

It was easy to get him to stay with me. It was the exact same way to get me to not want to move. I laughed again as I gave Cedric a little kiss that quickly turned into a big one. My heart raced with excitement as he kept my body pressed roughly against his. Cedric once more leaned over me and pressed my back down against the stone ground. My legs found their place in between his own. Yes, I was definitely glad that he had offered me a few more minutes. Although, it had already been almost half an hour past when we had said that we would go.

That near half an hour had quickly devolved into something much more. Something almost like what had been on my mind for the past few months each time we'd been together like this. The two of us remained locked together for a long time. It would likely be the early hours of the morning by the time we left. When we finally broke apart, we remained on the floor, watching the stars dance across the sky. We quickly moved back against each other again. We didn't even pull away when the sky turned pink, signaling that the sun would be coming up soon.

It was definitely past four o'clock in the morning when the time came that we finally pulled apart. We didn't talk for a long time. Instead, we settled on laying together as I enjoyed the brief silence that we had. Neither one of us got much of a chance to enjoy our time together like this. Usually, we were always moving. Not only that, but there were also usually too many people around who wanted to watch us to see what was happening. I liked these moments of peace that didn't involve the peanut gallery listening in.

"You know, we're going to be exhausted tomorrow morning when we should really be ready for class," I told Cedric.

His eyes shot open. "Are you joking?" Cedric asked. I shook my head. "You're starting to sound like Hermione."

Starting to turn into Hermione. That was a horrifying thought. "Oh... Oh, my... Cedric, I think you're right," I gasped, placing a hand on my chest. He laughed at my sudden panic. "I'm spending so much time with her that I'm starting to turn into her. I need to do something with the twins. Or Ron. Or Harry. Or literally anyone else."

"Imagine the horrors of what could happen if you went to sleep on time or actually paid attention in class," Cedric teased.

"You're right. Horrible visions of the future, honestly," I told him.

Cedric snorted in amusement. "Should we go back to the Common Rooms?"

"Five more minutes," I moaned.

"Don't have to twist my arm," Cedric said immediately.

We both laughed again as I pulled Cedric in for another kiss. I was extremely grateful that we had managed to enjoy the few times like this that we got together without getting caught. That was the most surprising part of this entire thing. It had definitely been more than five minutes when I pulled away from him, annoyed that it was definitely time to go back to our respective Common Rooms. I had a feeling that classes would be starting in about two hours, leaving not much time to actually sleep. Oh, well... A problem for tomorrow, I supposed.

"Okay. Time to head back to the Common Rooms, I think," I told him, gently pushing myself back.

"Shall we?" Cedric offered, rising to his feet.

"Definitely," I said, taking his hand and pulling myself up.

"Definitely?" Cedric asked.

"In reference to the fact that we should definitely get going because I'll never hear the end of it from Hermione if I start falling asleep in the middle of class on the first day," I told him.

Cedric laughed. "Fair enough. Come on."

We both wandered down the spiral staircase and hurried through the hall. We had to be quick about things to ensure that we didn't get caught by any of the teachers who were on patrol duty. We headed toward the turret of Gryffindor Tower. I wasn't going to walk Cedric all the way there, but we could have a brief moment together. We stopped a floor below the stairs for Gryffindor Tower when I leaned in for a small kiss. It was extremely brief since neither one of us could afford getting caught out of bed, after hours.

"Goodnight, Cedric. I'll see you in the morning," I said sweetly.

"Goodnight, Tara," Cedric replied.

We leaned in and I pressed another quick kiss against his mouth. My heart fluttered slightly. I really did like being with him. It was at moments like these, though, that I wondered just how much I genuinely did like him. Was it finally more than just a big crush? I didn't want to think about it right now. I woke up the Far Lady (who didn't look happy to be woken up from her 'beauty sleep') darted back into the Gryffindor Common Room, and immediately dropped into my bed. There was barely an hour left before classes began, but I still couldn't fall asleep.

After a while, I rolled over in bed, a series of dazzling new pictures forming in my mind's eye. I had somehow managed to hoodwink the Goblet of Fire into believing that I was seventeen. I had become the Hogwarts champion. I was standing on the grounds, my arms raised in triumph in front of the whole school, all of whom were applauding and screaming. I had just won the Triwizard Tournament. Cedric's face stood out particularly clearly in the blurred crowd, his face glowing with admiration. I grinned into my pillow, exceptionally glad that Hermione couldn't see what I could.


	13. Mad-Eye Moody

Early the next morning, I felt my leg getting shaken. I groaned slightly as I turned and rolled over, driving my head down into the pillow. I knew that it was Hermione standing over me. She was already dressed and appeared to be attempting to push me out of bed. But I wasn't getting up right yet. There was no way that the night was over. I really shouldn't have stayed out as late as I had the night before. I had ended up barely getting half an hour of sleep. Not a brilliant idea, considering that this was the first day of classes. I slowly leaned up in the bed, staring grouchily at Hermione.

"What do you want?" I growled.

"Hogwarts would like you to wake up and attend your first day of classes," Hermione said.

"Damn..." I groaned.

It really was time to get up? How? That wasn't fair. Even if this entire thing was my fault. "You went to sleep at the same time as the rest of us. What's wrong with you?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"Nothing. I hate mornings... and you," I growled. Hermione scowled. "Go away."

"What did you do last night?" Hermione asked knowingly.

"Nothing," I told her.

Hermione stared at me disbelievingly. I groaned in annoyance as her eyes traced around the room, spotting my things now strewn about my side. Her brow arched curiously. "You unpacked?" Hermione asked me.

"Yeah," I answered.

She shot me a scrutinizing glare. "You did something else. What did you do?" Hermione asked accusingly.

"Nothing, Hermione!" I barked.

"I heard you leave last night," Lavender put in.

Lavender Brown was one of those people that I liked about half of the time. Sometimes she was a sweetheart and other times I wanted to pitch her from the Astronomy Tower. Currently, she was in the latter category. "Thanks for that, Lavender," I breathed out.

Hermione's gaze narrowed. She would figure it out within seconds. "Where did you go?" she asked.

"Bathroom," I answered.

"Downstairs?" Lavender asked, grinning.

Did she need to keep talking? I rolled my eyes again as I leaned over to Parvati and Fay, both of who were watching us with smiles. "Is there a bathroom down in the Common Room?" I asked them quietly.

"Going on your fourth year in this school and you still don't know whether or not there's a bathroom down in the Common Room?" Hermione asked me disbelievingly.

"Is there?" I asked curiously.

Of the many things I knew about Hogwarts, somehow that wasn't one of them. "No, Tara. There isn't," Hermione sighed. I groaned. There went that idea. "So, where did you go last night?"

There were two options. I could lie - which she would see right through - or I could tell her a watered-down version of the truth. At least she might go for that. "For a little while, I went upstairs into the Astronomy Tower and sat with Cedric," I explained weakly. There was some happy muttering from the other girls. "We had a nice little chat between the two of us before heading back down to our respective dormitories."

Hermione narrowed her gaze. "That sounds far too innocent."

"Thanks for the faith," I huffed.

"What did you do?" Lavender asked curiously.

"Not that!" I snapped.

Lavender hummed quietly. "That's not what the rest of the school thinks."

My eyebrows shot up. "Huh?"

"We've only been here for a day! Not even," Hermione gasped, turning back to Lavender. "How did you already figure that?"

"It was one of the rumors swirling over the summer," Parvati explained quietly. I turned to her and motioned for her to continue. They definitely had me awake now. "Cedric Diggory's got a bunch of friends who wanted to hang out with him over the summer."

"What's that got to do with me?" I asked dumbly.

"He was always with you," Lavender said.

"So?" I hissed.

"Put two and two together, Tara," Fay said gently.

For a second, I stared at them blankly. Perhaps I had just been trying to ignore it over the summer. But I knew exactly what it was that they were talking about. I knew that it would be a problem when we returned this year. Of course. People all over the school - and definitely my dorm mates now - thought that we were sneaking away in private to hook up. That was definitely not the truth. There had been some heavy kissing and nothing more. I had ever made sure to ask him last week and he had insisted that he was fine with the way that we were.

There was no way that he would tell his friends that we were either. It must have been a rumor that someone else was starting. "That's a lie. Just more gossip," I said, waving them off flippantly.

Lavender looked slightly disappointed. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"He's okay with that?" Parvati asked.

"Yes."

"Really?" Lavender asked.

"Just spit out whatever the hell you're talking about," I spat angrily.

The summer without having people whispering about my relationship with Cedric had been wonderful. I hadn't been prepared to come back to it. "Think about it a little bit, Tara," Lavender said. I nodded for her to continue. "Cedric Diggory is one of the most attractive guys in Hogwarts and he has no shortage of suitors." I rolled my eyes. I was well aware of that. "If you're not willing, I'm sure that someone else would be."

My jaw dropped as I tried to resist punching her. That wasn't something that Cedric would ever do. I knew it. "I think you're missing the point of Hufflepuff. They're honest and loyal," Hermione said, knowing that anything that came out of my mouth wouldn't be acceptable.

"But he's still a sixteen-year-old guy," Parvati argued.

"Can we just go to breakfast?" I growled lowly.

The girls all started giggling as they walked out of the room. I was glad that they were leaving because I really didn't think that I could have tolerated that conversation much longer. I rolled my eyes at them and practically threw myself out of the bed. I wanted to get out of this damn place right now. I wanted to just hide out by the Black Lake. I briefly grabbed Hermione's arm as she passed my bed, grateful to her for standing up for Cedric for even a brief second. Hermione gave me a slight smile as I got to my feet and started changing into my robes.

I was halfway through when I realized that Fay was still in the dorm room. She stopped at my side. "If it makes you feel any better, I doubt that Cedric would ever do something like that. Everyone knows what you mean to him," Fay told me.

"Thanks, Fay," I said quietly.

"See you later," Fay said, smiling at me.

"See you," I told her. I finished pulling on my robes before turning back to Hermione. She was nose-deep in some book about the history of house-elves. "Hey." Hermione glanced up. "Thanks for saying that."

"Of course," Hermione said, giving me a slight smile. "Don't listen to Lavender and Parvati. You know what they're like."

This wasn't just gossip. This was something that had been weighing on my mind for a long time. "Yeah, I know. But hearing them say stuff like that doesn't help. I mean, I've had a conversation with Cedric about it already and he says that it's fine and he's happy where we are, but I still get concerned. Them saying shit like that doesn't help," I said, ignoring the look on Hermione's face from my profanity.

Hermione's brow quirked curiously. "You had a conversation about that with Cedric?"

"Toward the end of summer," I admitted. This was one conversation that I had been hoping to get away with not having. I was hoping it would stay between the two of us. "We went for a walk after the dinner with my parents and we were kissing and it kind of dawned on me and I spat it out before I could think better of it. He was sweet about it, though. He kept telling me that he was perfectly happy where we were." Hermione smiled. "But, I don't know, how much longer will he be happy? Parvati and Lavender aren't completely wrong. He's a teenage guy. When's that next step going to come in?"

It was something that had started bothering me a few weeks ago. The question of how long it would take before Cedric wanted more and whether or not I was ready for it. At the moment, I definitely wasn't. I really liked him and liked spending time with him (and kissing him, if I was being honest) but I wasn't sure that I was ready for anything more. My gaze slowly turned back to Hermione. She was giving me a look that I couldn't quite read. My naturally defensive demeanor immediately kicked in.

"What?" I snapped. "I hate that judgemental face."

"It's not judgemental!" Hermione gasped. I sighed at her. I'd known that. She was just thinking. She wouldn't have judged me, even if I had already done what the other girls were suggesting. "I swear that it's not."

"Sorry," I said quickly, feeling a little guilty for snapping at her without reason. "I just - I don't know. He might be there, but if he is, let's be honest about it. He knows that I'm not and he's not the type to pressure someone. So, he'll go off of what he thinks I think about the entire situation and go from there." Hermione stared at me. "That doesn't make any sense, does it?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, it does. Tara, you don't have anything to be worried about. Cedric - I don't know how deeply his feelings for you truly run - but I do know that he cares for you enough to wait until you're ready for the next step. We both know that he wouldn't dare do anything to hurt you in the meantime. He'd never do something like that," she argued.

The truth was that she was right. I knew it deep in my bones. Cedric might have wanted to move a little bit faster, but he wasn't going to say anything about it. Just like he had said on the playground on Magnolia Crescent, he was fine with where we were. I knew that Cedric had been placed in Hufflepuff for a reason. He would never dare do anything to break my trust. He just wasn't that kind of person. If he ever had a problem, he would come to me to talk about it. I had said it many times before; he was one of the good ones.

"You're right," I finally told her.

Hermione smiled at me slightly. Her gaze was fixated on my hand, which was currently twisting around the chain of the necklace that showed me my happiest memories. "I might not have had any relationships of my own, but I do understand them. And I see how he looks at you," Hermione said. A small smile eventually tilted up on the corner of her lips. "Not to mention how you look at him..."

"We're dating. How would you like me to look at him? Scowl at him?" I asked her dumbly.

The longer that Hermione looked at me, the more I realized what it was that she was talking about. "Come on, Tara," Hermione said, nudging my hip. I stared at her. "You can tell me."

Absolutely not. I was avoiding that conversation with myself even more than I had been with the previous one. "On that note, I think we're late for class. Let's go," I told her, grabbing her wrist and dragging her toward the door. Hermione laughed as I chucked her shoes at her and threw my own on. "You know, we really have to get you a boyfriend this year."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not interested."

"Not even in a certain red-head?" I asked teasingly.

"I have no interest in Ron," Hermione said huffily.

A grin turned up on the edge of my lips. She had walked right into my trap. "Funny. I don't remember saying Ron," I told her quietly.

Her head snapped over in my direction. "Don't even go there," she warned.

But I was still rooting for the two of them to end up together. "Come on! You can tell me, I won't laugh. I understand," I said, running over to her and hanging over her shoulders. Hermione rolled her eyes and tried to pry me off. "Ron's kind of a moron, but he's the sweet kind and that's the best kind. Plus, you two have been friends forever. Oh, I can push you two together."

"Stop it!" Hermione said, finally managing to shove me off of her. "Ron is my friend and nothing more."

"Do you just enjoy sucking the fun out of my life?" I huffed.

"Let's focus on your relationship, shall we?" Hermione offered.

Baby steps, I supposed. The Ron remark would at least root itself in her head for now. I could work more at the two of them later. "Fine. But mark my words Hermione Granger, I will see you with Ron Weasley if it's the last thing I do!" I yelled at her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay. Come on. We're late."

Just before she walked out the door, I reached over and grabbed her arm. "Hey. Hang on," I said. She glanced up. "Thanks, Mione."

"Anytime," Hermione said, smiling at me.

"Tara! Hermione!" Harry's voice yelled up to us. "Are you two still up there?"

"Yeah! We'll be there in a second!" I called down to him.

"Come on, you," Hermione said, dragging me along. "No more romance talk!"

"We'll work on it," I told her.

One day I would get her to admit that she had feelings for Ron. Anyone, really, I supposed. She would need someone to practice on first. Perhaps she needed to date someone else before Ron. Hermione rolled her eyes, knowing that I wouldn't let this one go anytime soon, as the two of us walked out of our dorm and down the stairs. Ron and Harry appeared to be some of the last remaining students in the Common Room. Everyone else was likely already down in the Great Hall having breakfast and preparing for their first day of classes.

"You two took ages," Ron groaned as we walked into the Common Room.

I grinned nastily at Hermione. "We were actually having an interesting discussion about -"

"House-elf rights!" she squeaked, interrupting me.

Harry and Ron both looked at us sideways as I smiled at Hermione, who looked horrified. But she should have known that I wasn't actually going to say anything. "You found a discussion about house-elf rights interesting?" Harry asked me disbelievingly.

"Yeah. You know me. I love... equality," I muttered dumbly.

"Whatever," Ron groaned. His stomach started grumbling. "Can we go get breakfast now?"

"Sure," I said, heading out of the portrait.

Ron and Hermione walked just ahead of us, the two of them snapping at each other about Hermione's newfound love of house-elves. "Why were you two really down so late?" Harry whispered to me.

Making sure that the two of them couldn't hear me, I lowered my voice to a whisper. "Oh, I was teasing Hermione. I told her that we were going to get her a boyfriend this year and she said that she wasn't interested. When I mentioned a certain red-head, she jumped to the conclusion that I meant Ron," I said quietly. Harry grinned.

"Still working on that, are you?" Harry asked bemusedly.

"I'm not a quitter, Harry Potter. They'll get together. Just wait for it," I said confidently.

One day the two of them would be together. They could be sure of that much. "I can't believe you're that determined," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Really?" I asked him disbelievingly.

"No. I know you. I should know that you're going to keep at this until it happens," Harry said.

"Damn straight," I agreed.

We both laughed quietly. They should have all known that I was going to get Hermione and Ron together - no matter what it meant. Harry wrapped an arm over my shoulder as the four of us headed downstairs for breakfast. Harry and I quickly sped up to fall into line with Hermione and Ron. They were still arguing about breakfast. About halfway down the grand staircase, Hermione stepped in front of Harry and scowled at me. I grinned at her. Clearly, she was quite afraid that I would say something about our earlier conversation to Ron.

But I meant what I had said. I wouldn't tell him. That part was going to be up to them. The storm from last night had blown itself out sometime in the early morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter gray swirled overhead as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I examined our new course schedules at breakfast. I hadn't actually gotten a chance to look though. I was distracted by something else. A few seats along, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were discussing magical methods of aging themselves and bluffing their way into the Triwizard Tournament.

Placing my schedule down on the table, I scooted over to where the three of them were sitting. They were so engrossed in their conversation that they'd barely noticed me slide over. "What are you three dimwits planning?" I asked them sharply.

All three of them jerked up to look at me. "Dimwits?" Lee asked, offended.

"We'll have you know that our plan is so -"

"Dimwitted?" I interrupted George.

"What's your brilliant plan to enter, then?" Fred asked sharply.

"I'm not entering," I told him simply.

Fred stared at me as if waiting to see when I would laugh at him for falling for his trick. "What?" Fred asked. I shrugged at him. "Why?"

"Because I've come to realize that there are better ways to spend my time this year. Not being in trouble for entering, underage, is one of them," I told them. Fred and George looked shocked at my sudden care for the rules. "Plus, you know, I've kind of had a lot of near-death moments over the past few years. Maybe I'll get off without one this year."

All three of them stared at me for a long time. Finally, Fred said, "Big baby."

"Thanks," I snapped.

"Or is it because you've found someone you'd rather support?" George asked knowingly.

The three of them started laughing. I rolled my eyes at them and glanced around. At that comment, a number of the other students at the Gryffindor table turned to me. They probably wanted to know if George was right or not. He wasn't a fool. He was right about me having someone else to support. But I wasn't going to say it out loud. I would rather not be public enemy number one this early. I knew that no one would be happy with me when they found out that I would be supporting Cedric. So, I decided to lie to them for now.

"Absolutely not. I just want to see one of you morons struggle your way through the tournament," I told them. Their laughing faces fell. "Should be fun."

If they were ever picked for the Triwizard Tournament, I would have a ton of fun watching them screw themselves over throughout the year. Fred, George, and Lee leaned over to whack me for my comment. I laughed quietly as I moved back over to my side of the table. I grabbed the schedule that had been laid out by Professor McGonagall. We had all missed them being handed out because we were so late. My schedule had been reworked more than anyone else's to ensure that I could still take all of the classes I wanted to without having to use the Time-Turner.

"Today's not bad... outside all morning," Ron said, who was running his finger down the Monday column of his schedule. I glanced down at my own. My Monday's were just as full as theirs were, but I would have more classes on Tuesday and Thursday. "Herbology with the Hufflepuff's and Care of Magical Creatures... damn it, we're still with the Slytherin's..."

"Oh, shocking. You know that we'd have to be with them at least once," I told him irritably.

"We can always hope," Ron moaned.

"When do we have Potions?" I asked. That was the real nightmare.

Ron scanned down the list. "Tomorrow."

"One more day of peace," I said.

"Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groaned, looking down.

Two wonderful classes in a row... It wasn't that I hated Care of Magical Creatures. I actually did quite enjoy the class. But it was taught by Hagrid, who the Slytherin's had always hated. They tried anything possible to embarrass him. I hated that we would have to have that class with him again. They would just try to get him fired all over again. As much as I wasn't looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures, Divination was my least favorite subject, apart from Potions. Professor Trelawney kept predicting Harry and I's deaths, which we both found extremely annoying.

"Wonderful," I groaned.

"You should have given it up like me, shouldn't you?" Hermione offered briskly, buttering herself some toast.

"Shut up. You only gave it up because you sucked at it," I told her.

"It was useless!" Hermione gasped, affronted. She had never particularly liked being told that she was bad at anything. I grinned at her. "Why didn't you drop it?"

"Because I'm thinking of being an Auror and they really like to have their applicants be well-rounded," I told her. Hermione still didn't look like she understood what I meant. "I might hate Divination but it's something different since so many people drop it or never even bother. Being able to see signs that something is wrong while you're essentially acting as a detective? It could help win me a job. I don't know, I'm hoping that I might stand out with it on my curriculum."

"You'll just drive yourself insane in the meantime?" Harry asked.

"Pretty much," I admitted.

Harry and Ron laughed. "Well, if you had dropped it, you would at least be doing something sensible like Arithmancy," Hermione said haughtily.

"It's really only required if you want to be something like a Curse-Breaker," I told her, jumping to the boys' defense. She arched a brow as I threw my head back to the boys. "Let's admit it, there's no way that these two morons could do that."

"Hey!" Ron and Harry barked.

"Bill's a Curse-Breaker," Ron pointed out.

I rolled my eyes as I turned back to him. "And when's the last time you studied anywhere near as hard as Bill did?"

Ron flushed and went back to his food, muttering under his breath. I grinned and turned back to my own plate. "Are you still taking Arithmancy, Tara?" Hermione asked, glancing down at my schedule.

"Yeah. I've just got it at a different time than you do. You're taking it with the Ravenclaw's. I'll be taking it with the Hufflepuff's and Slytherin's so I can also do Divination. I talked it all out with Professor McGonagall. I've got a normal schedule again," I explained.

"That might be interesting," Hermione said.

"Doubtful. Malfoy's in that class," I growled.

"Oh, sorry," Hermione said.

I'd been unfortunate enough to notice that Malfoy would be in a number of my classes this year. "You're eating again, I notice," Ron said, watching Hermione adding liberal amounts of jam to her toast.

"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights," Hermione said haughtily.

"Yeah... and you were hungry," Ron said, grinning.

"He's got a point. I heard your stomach this morning," I told her.

Hermione rolled her eyes again, determined to ignore us. There was a sudden rustling noise above us that kept me from continuing to harass her. A hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. I smiled up at them, scanning the ceiling for Dai but knowing that he wouldn't be there. There was no way that Mom and Dad would have written to me yet. They didn't miss me that much. Everyone else who would have been writing me, save Sirius, was right here at Hogwarts.

Instinctively, I noticed Harry look up. I'd almost forgotten that we were waiting for Sirius to write him back. I glanced up again with him, but there was no sign of white among the mass of brown and gray. Hedwig was always one of the easiest owls to spot and there was no doubt about it. She wasn't here. But I couldn't be too concerned. It would be a few more days before she returned. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed. I watched Rusty land in Cedric's lap with a small letter - likely from his mother.

A large tawny owl soared down to Neville Longbottom and deposited a parcel into his lap - Neville almost always forgot to pack something. On the other side of the Hall Draco Malfoy's eagle owl had landed on his shoulder, carrying what looked like his usual supply of sweets and cakes from home. I rolled my eyes at the proud grin on his face. Trying to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in my stomach, I returned to my eggs, trying to ignore the nerves in my stomach. Was it possible that something had happened to Hedwig, and that Sirius hadn't even got our letter?

On my other side, I noticed that Harry was as nervous as I was. He was stabbing at his porridge, not actually eating it. "They're fine, Harry," I told him, pulling the spoon out of his hands. "Hedwig and Sirius."

"When's the last time you heard from him?" Harry asked.

"A few weeks ago," I admitted. That didn't seem to relax Harry even the slightest bit. I lowered my voice so that no one else could hear us. "But, Harry, I think that he's somewhere tropical. Probably thousands of miles away. That's a long journey for Hedwig to be making. It would have taken her at least a few days to get to the islands. Sirius will have let her rest at least a day before sending her back. It's going to take a little while."

He thought about that for a long time. "You really think so?" Harry asked.

"He hasn't stayed away from the Ministry this long to get caught now. He's going to be just fine. You're worrying for nothing," I said confidently.

My only choice was to believe that Sirius and Hedwig were going to be okay. I had to have faith that they were going to be fine. I was sure that it would drive me out of my mind with worry if I thought for even a second that Sirius was going to get caught. He had been smart enough to avoid authorities for over a year. He wasn't going to get caught now. But that didn't stop me from twiddling my thumbs nervously, hoping that breakfast would end already so that I could go to class and finally get my mind on something else.

Slowly I looked back up to the ceiling and smiled as Dai flew down to the table. Sometimes he did like to just visit. He landed on the table next to Ron and gave him a quick bite - as he had been known to do. Ron swore loudly and I whacked him over the back of the head as he reached over to hit Dai. My owl gave something of a smirk before hopping over to me, knowing that I would protect him. I rolled my eyes and allowed him to steal some eggs and bacon off my plate. Ron continued glaring at him.

Dai hung around for a few more seconds while he demanded to be pet. That was also when I realized that he had a letter with him. I took the letter and placed it down on the table as Dai gave me an affectionate nip and took off. I watched in amusement as he soared over to the Hufflepuff table and landed at Cedric's plate. I laughed guiltily as my own demanded that he feed and pet him. Thankfully Cedric didn't really look all that bothered. He gave Dai a little bit of bacon and stroked his feathers for a few seconds before Dai took off. Cedric rose with him and headed over to me.

As Dai headed off - likely to the Owlery with the rest of the students' owls - Cedric seated himself on my free side. "He's as bratty as you are," Cedric said, taking some bacon off of my plate as repentance for what Dai had taken from him.

"Learned behavior. What can I say?" I said teasingly. We smiled at each other as Cedric shifted slightly to lean back against the wood. "Where were you going?"

"Library. There's a book I want to pick up."

"Mm... Have fun," I said carelessly.

Cedric rolled his eyes. I assumed that he was starting his preparations for his N.E.W.T. exams next year. "Do you have a break today?" Cedric asked, glancing over my shoulder at my schedule.

"Just lunch, unfortunately," I said regrettably.

"Too bad," Cedric groaned.

Wouldn't Hogwarts have been much better if there were no classes and we could just socialize all the time? Unfortunately, we still had to pretend like we were really here to learn. The two of us sat together for a while as he handed me over his schedule. It looked very similar to his schedule from the year before. He had one free period each day - except Wednesday. We wouldn't have much of a chance to see each other outside of the weekends and normal breaks. Perhaps that was a good thing, though. This was a pivotal year for both of us and we needed to focus.

We both scanned over each other's schedules before handing them back. As I leaned back in my seat, I remembered his previous question. "Was there an offer in there somewhere?" I asked him curiously.

"I was going to see if you wanted to go on a walk around the Black Lake," Cedric said.

"Oh, cheesy and romantic. Good pairing," I teased.

Cedric glared at me and picked up a roll, chucking it at my head. "Here I was, trying to make a sweet gesture," he said.

I laughed as I managed to swat the bread roll away from me. It shot onto the other end of the dining hall. "I've got some time in between classes tomorrow. How about then?" I offered.

"Works for me," Cedric said. I smiled at him. "Can I meet you before dinner?"

"If you're lucky," I teased.

We both laughed. "I'll see you a little bit later."

"Have a good first day of classes."

"You too. Try not to sleep through any of them or get detention," Cedric said.

"No promises," I replied honestly.

It would just depend on how boring classes were today. Cedric chuckled softly and leaned down to press a small kiss against my mouth. I blushed softly as he pulled away and headed off toward the library, probably to find whatever boring book it was that he needed for his class. As Cedric walked off there was some laughing and giggling from the other students. We still weren't done with the rumors, it seemed. I rolled my eyes and smacked Harry, who was making gagging noises, as I turned away and opened my letter. The handwriting and return address was unfamiliar to me.

Tara,

Hopefully, it's okay that I'm writing to you while you're at Hogwarts. I hope that it gets to you before your classes begin. I just wanted to tell you that it was wonderful meeting you a few weeks back at the Quidditch World Cup. You remind me very much of your father. I hope that you don't mind me saying that. Trust me when I say that it's a compliment. He was always one of the best men and players I've ever known.

Since I'm sure that you'll be on your way to class at any moment, I suppose that I should get to the point. Now that you're back at Hogwarts, you must have finally heard the truth about the Triwizard Tournament. That must be exciting for you and the rest of the school. I wish that I would have gotten the chance to see that. Anyway, I know that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup won't be happening this year. I'm sorry to hear that. You must have been looking forward to being back on the Pitch. But, on the bright side, there will be some Quidditch recruiters present during the Third Task.

Once I know their names, if you'd like, I'd be more than happy to pass them along to you. And if you're interested, I might also slip them your name. Trust me, they'll be willing to listen to the daughter of Marcus Nox.

Just thought that I would offer. I know that if I was in your position, I would want that opportunity. Giving them your name might give you a door, but they'll only take you if you're talented, which I hear you are. Don't feel bad using your name for a leg-up. Take some time and think about it. In the meantime, enjoy being back at Hogwarts and have fun watching the Triwizard Tournament. Perhaps we will see each other again sometime soon.

Have a good semester,

Phil Troy.

Smiling down at the letter, I folded it back up and tucked it into my bag. That was an interesting proposition that he was offering. Definitely not one that would have occurred to me before. I sat at the table for the remainder of breakfast, batting the idea back and forth, considering what I would end up writing back. I really wanted to do it but I wasn't sure that I would actually go through with it. Like he had mentioned in the letter, I would feel guilty for using my family name to get me a leg-up in the Professional Quidditch League.

It was worth noting that Phil Troy was now writing to me while I was at school. I could have only assumed that Phil had sent his own owl with the letter to Hogwarts and that owl had delivered it to Dai, who had then delivered it to me. I glanced up at the roof curiously, almost convinced that another owl would drop off a letter telling me that the first had only been a joke. But it never happened. Phil was really offering me his help to become a professional player. I grinned madly. I must have made more of an impression on him than I had originally thought I did.

A long time passed that I stared down at the table, my mind racing with possibilities over what I would do with a potential meeting set-up with professional Quidditch recruiters. The others at the table were staring at me curiously but didn't say anything about the letter. They likely knew that I wouldn't have told them what was going on anyway. This was something that I needed to figure out on my own. But I knew that this was something that I would be thinking on likely until the day before the Quidditch recruiters arrived at Hogwarts.

For the next few minutes I finished my breakfast in silence, my head stuck somewhere in between the possible in for a professional Quidditch career and my fear that something might have happened with Sirius. Eventually, I found myself completely engrossed in what might have been happening. Could he have been caught? Probably not. I was sure that we would have heard about it by now if that was the case. There was no way the Ministry would keep it a secret when they had looked like fools for so long now.

Perhaps Sirius was just moving around a lot right now and hadn't gotten a chance to sit down and write a full letter. That was all that I could hope for right now. I really just wished that wizards would use cellphones... In the meantime, I would have to settle with the hope that the letter from him would arrive sometime in the next few days. If I was being completely honest, I was getting nervous over Sirius's position. But I needed to stay positive. That was the only way to keep Harry calm. He was a lot more wound up about it than I was.

My preoccupation lasted through breakfast and all the way across the sodden vegetable patch until we arrived in greenhouse three, but it was there that I was distracted by Professor Sprout showing the class the ugliest plants I had ever seen. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid. I'd seen Mom dealing with them a lot when she was a Healer back in the States. They had always repulsed me.

"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told us briskly.

Yep. It was exactly as I thought - a disgusting start to the year. "Oh, I hate those things," I groaned.

Thankfully, Professor Sprout didn't hear me. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus -"

"The what?" Seamus Finnigan asked, sounding revolted.

"Pus, Finnigan, pus, and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it," Professor Sprout said happily, barely noticing the disgusted looks that she was getting from the rest of the class. "You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."

"Kind of like squeezing pimples," I whispered to Hermione, who was turning green.

"That's repulsive," she gasped.

"So, we know that you won't be an Herbologist," I teased. She continued shaking her head as I slipped on my gloves. "They use bubotubers and the pus all the time. Healers, too."

"I'll pass," Hermione said.

She hadn't even put on her gloves yet. I smiled at her and tossed them into her lap. "Come on, you big baby. I'll help you," I said.

It took a long time to convince Hermione that nothing was going to happen to her - she just had to go for it. I had never actually touched a bubotuber before, but I'd seen people use them plenty of times before. Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish-green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. Some part of me almost enjoyed it. It was kind of relaxing. It kind of reminded me of the stress-balls that Muggles would use.

Needless to say, most people didn't enjoy squeezing the bubotubers nearly as much as I did. Of course, most of them had never seen them before, so this was a rather shocking first lesson of the semester. We normally started slowly. But I at least got to chat with my friends throughout the lesson. Just as with the summer before, most of the students had done much of the same. Dean and Seamus had spent most of the holiday hanging out with each other. Seamus's father was evidently growing more used to the Wizarding World. Dean still loved soccer.

Neville had spent much of the summer with his grandmother who, as usual, didn't approve of him spending much time away from her. I felt bad for him. It had to make for a boring holiday. Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, and Justin Finch-Fletchley had spent a lot of their time together. I liked all three of them but I tended to avoid their invitations to hang out. They liked to talk about my relationship with Cedric too much. Lavender, Fay, and Parvati had all spent a lot of time shopping and gossiping. Apparently, my relationship with Cedric was one of their favorite topics to discuss.

Unfortunately, my relationship status was once more a rather large source of conversation throughout Hogwarts. As Lavender had warned me, everyone was curious to know just where Cedric and I stood with each other. I was sure that it would only be a few weeks before the broom cupboard rumors resurfaced. I couldn't believe that I had the most interesting relationship in all of Hogwarts, but I had to remember that Cedric was one of the most popular students in Hogwarts and I was Harry Potter's crazy best friend. We made an odd couple.

Much of the lesson was spent trying to convince the others near our table that nothing more had happened between Cedric. They didn't seem all that convinced. I was sure that by lunchtime there would be rumors of how they assumed I'd spent my summer. I'd just have to roll my eyes and ignore it as I always did. Until that time, I was attempting to keep occupied with the bubotubers. We caught the pus in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson, we had all collected several pints.

"This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy," Professor Sprout, said stoppering the last bottle with a cork. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples."

"Like poor Eloise Midgen," Hannah said in a hushed voice. "She tried to curse hers off."

"Silly girl," Professor Sprout said, shaking her head. "But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end."

Eloise Midgen was a Gryffindor student a year below us. She was quite nice but painfully shy. It was mostly due to the fact that she had one of the worst cases of acne I had ever seen on someone. Even Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potion didn't seem to do the trick. I had once tried to convince her to keep at it, but she had apparently thought that it was making her acne even worse. Last year she had vanished for a few days after what I'd assumed was a simple homework spell gone wrong. I had seen her in the hospital wing after a collision with George during Quidditch practice.

Eloise had seemed so upset that day that I hadn't wanted to ask what was wrong with her. But I had been curious. "That's what happened to her?" I whispered to Hannah.

"What did you think happened?" Hannah asked.

"I ran into her in the hospital wing and assumed that it was a homework accident. Later on, someone told me that Parkinson cursed her. Which, honestly, would have made sense. I was planning on hexing Parkinson, later on, to get back at her," I told the others. There were a number of excited grins. No one liked Pansy Parkinson. I hummed thoughtfully as I stared at the bubotuber pus. "Actually, I might still do that."

"Make sure we're all around to see it," Ernie said.

Everyone at the table laughed. Save one person. "Tara, honestly," Hermione groaned.

Pansy Parkinson had been one of my least favorite students at Hogwarts since I had first started. She was a Slytherin in the same year as the rest of us and happened to be the girlfriend of Draco Malfoy. Not that it seemed to matter most of the time. That didn't seem to stop him from flirting with me or insulting her. Parkinson had been subjected to many of my pranks. I'd given her antlers during a deal in our Second Year and had also given her a black eye. Giving her a good curse might just have been the best way to start off a new year.

A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signaling the end of the lesson, and the class separated; the Hufflepuff's climbing the stone steps for Transfiguration, and the Gryffindor's heading in the other direction, down the sloping lawn toward Hagrid's small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. I loved Care of Magical Creatures, but Hagrid teaching it did make me nervous. He didn't seem to understand which animals were best kept in textbooks and which were appropriate to actually bring to a classroom full of children.

Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. I smiled at Fang. He had always been one of my favorite creatures in Hogwarts. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. I groaned at the sight of them. It would be something dangerous, I was sure of it. As we drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached my ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.

"Mornin'!" Hagrid said, grinning at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and me.

"Hi, Hagrid. How was your summer?" I chirped in response.

Hagrid released Fang, who immediately darted off toward us. I grunted in surprise as Fang threw himself onto me and tackled me to the ground, as he usually greeted me. I laughed along with Hagrid as I patted the boarhound. "No' bad. How was yours, Tara?" Hagrid asked as I managed to throw Fang off to the side.

"Pretty good! Saw the Quidditch World Cup," I said, getting back to my feet.

"Heard abou' that. Must've been somethin'," Hagrid said. I nodded my agreement, clutching my bag with the letter from Phil a little tighter. "Be'er wait fer the Slytherin's, they won' want ter miss this - Blast-Ended Skrewts!"

"Come again?" Ron said.

"What are those?" Hermione asked me.

"Not a clue," I said honestly.

If even Hermione didn't know, it was sure to have been one of Hagrid's newest creations. Which were never exactly fun to meet for the first time. I knew a lot about magical creatures, but I had never heard of something called a Blast-Ended Skrewt. At this point, I wasn't sure if I wanted to have ever heard of them. With my luck, they would be something dangerous and painful. I gave Hagrid a long look, hoping that he would say something about the newest additions, but he never did. Instead, Hagrid pointed down into the crates.

"Ugh!" Lavender Brown squealed, jumping backward.

'Ugh' just about summed up the Blast-Ended Skrewts in my opinion. They looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over one another, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a skrewt, and with a small put, it would be propelled forward several inches.

As more sparks flew out of the end of one of the larger skrewt, I jumped back with Lavender. "Hagrid!" I gasped, looking up to him. He was grinning down at the skrewts. "What do you have these for?"

"On'y jus' hatched, so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves!" Hagrid said proudly. I forced a smile on my face. That meant another year of painful and embarrassing accidents in Care of Magical Creatures. "Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"

But I had never heard of these things before. Which could only mean... "Did - Did you breed these?" I asked Hagrid quietly.

"Sure did!" Hagrid said happily.

"Oh..." I muttered, staring down at the gross little blobs. "Well, they look lovely."

"Tara!" Harry hissed.

I turned to him with a shocked face. We all knew that Hagrid might have looked dangerous but he was a genuine softie. "Would you rather tell him that they look like a disgusting crossbreed that could kill us?" I asked Harry sharply.

"And why would we want to raise them?" asked an overly-familiar cold voice.

I'd almost forgotten that we were going to have to spend part of our morning with some of my least favorite people in Hogwarts. The Slytherin's had finally arrived. The speaker was Draco Malfoy. He was absolutely one of the worst people in Hogwarts. He made a habit out of insulting and harassing the people I cared for. Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling appreciatively at his words. Pansy Parkinson was a few feet behind him, looking at her quasi-boyfriend proudly. Hagrid looked stumped at the question.

"I mean, what do they do? What is the point of them?" Malfoy asked.

Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds' pause, then he said roughly, "Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things - I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer - I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' a bit o' grass snake - just try 'em out with a bit of each."

"First pus and now this," Seamus muttered.

"Have you tried this yet, Hagrid?" I asked carefully.

Hagrid glanced up at me and shook his head. "Not yet," Hagrid said. I swallowed a lump in my throat. "Testin'."

It was a sure thing. We were all going to end up severely burned or lacerated by the end of the lesson. "Great," I groaned, dropping my voice to ensure that Hagrid couldn't hear me. "Sounds perfectly safe."

"It's like you've never been in Hogwarts before," Ron whispered back.

"Fair enough," I said.

Nothing but deep affection for Hagrid could have made Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I pick up squelchy handfuls of frog liver and lower them into the crates to tempt the Blast-Ended Skrewts. Well, the three of them were more lowering the frog livers in. I was standing back a few feet and tossing them in. I knew that Hagrid wouldn't say anything about my hesitance. Not after I had ridden Buckbeak first last year. But that had been fun. Today I couldn't suppress the suspicion that this whole thing was entirely pointless, because the skrewts didn't seem to have mouths.

"Ouch!" Dean Thomas yelled after about ten minutes. "It got me."

He was the next crate over from us. I darted off from my own and headed to his aide. Dean showed me his hand, which now had a disgusting burn over about half of it. He was going to have to go to the hospital unless he wanted that to become a permanent scar. In the meantime, I summoned an ice pack and held it over his hand. Hermione looked shocked that I had managed the Summoning Spell. I only knew it because it had been taught much earlier at Ilvermorny as it was considered an essential spell. Hagrid hurried over to us, looking anxious.

"You alright, Dean?" I asked, holding the ice pack against his hand.

"Damn these things," Dean hissed. "Thanks for the ice pack."

"You're welcome," I said, allowing him to hold it himself as I took a step back.

"Its end exploded!" Dean growled angrily, showing Hagrid the burn on his hand.

"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off," Hagrid said awkwardly, nodding along.

"Uh... excuse me?" I asked curiously.

But Hagrid ignored me. "Ugh!" Lavender repeated. "Ugh, Hagrid, what's that pointy thing on it?"

"Ah, some of 'em have got stings," Hagrid said enthusiastically. Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box. I glanced back at the box and took a few more steps away. Maybe I would just take the failing grade for this lesson... "I reckon they're the males. The females've got sorta sucker things on their bellies... I think they might be ter suck blood."

"You think?" I asked, shocked.

"Haven't done much testin' on 'em," Hagrid admitted.

My mind flashed to Cedric's father, who worked for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hopefully, Cedric wouldn't repeat this one to his father... The Ministry certainly wouldn't like this. "You wonder why they insist on having a whole board on the control of magical creatures," I whispered to the others.

"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive. Who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?" Malfoy asked sarcastically, causing the other Slytherin's to laugh.

"Just because they're not very pretty, it doesn't mean they're not useful. Dragon blood's amazingly magical, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet, would you?" Hermione snapped.

Harry, Ron, and I grinned at Hagrid, who gave us a furtive smile from behind his bushy beard. Hagrid would have liked nothing better than a pet dragon, as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I knew only too well - he had owned one for a brief period during our First Year, a vicious Norwegian Ridgeback by the name of Norbert. Hagrid simply loved monstrous creatures, the more lethal, the better. I grinned at the aghast look on Malfoy's face. He hadn't known how to react to her since she had slapped him last year. I was usually the one known for my physical attacks on him.

"Yes. Astounding how things the things we don't care for seem to always make their way into our lives," I said loudly, earning snickers from the Gryffindor's.

Malfoy whipped around to me. "Why you little -"

"Little what, Malfoy?" I interrupted sharply. He merely stared at me. "Your insults never seem to go much past that."

The class went silent. Our arguments always managed to work their way around the school within a few hours. I supposed that people found our constant battles somewhat interesting. They were kind of interesting, actually. We couldn't seem to get along for the life of us. Every time we took a step in the right direction (like the day he had been nice to me in the library last year) we seemed to take two more backward. It didn't even seem to be that we hated each other. It seemed to be much more in part because Malfoy hated my friends and I hated his.

The Slytherin's looked like they were planning on walking over to me. Malfoy held out a hand to stop them from taking matters into their own hands. I smirked at the look on Parkinson's face. She looked like she wanted to throw me into the box with the skrewts. The feelings were mutual. I watched slowly as Malfoy pulled out of the grip of some of his friends and walked over to me. With Hagrid momentarily back in his house finding more options for food for the skrewts, no one was around to stop us from arguing with each other.

I'd thought that Malfoy was going to stop a few feet away from me or maybe just let it go, but he surprised me when he waltzed straight up to me and wrapped a hand around my wrist. I stumbled back but Malfoy managed to yank me directly into him. Harry and Ron (and a few others) made to move forward but I put out an arm to stop them from advancing on us. I could handle my own battles with Malfoy. I always had been able to. Malfoy tightened his grip on my arm and dragged me off a few feet, at which point I ripped my arm out of his grasp.

"What the hell do you want?" I hissed, stepping back from him.

Malfoy stared at me for a long time. He looked down at my bag and grinned nastily. "That's a nice letter you got from your Quidditch player," he purred lowly.

My head snapped down to the bag. It wasn't hanging out. So, how did he know about the letter from Phil? "What, do you have an ankle monitor on me?" I growled. Malfoy's head tilted to the side slightly as he stared at me in confusion. "It's a Muggle thing. Essentially it means that you're keeping way too close of tabs on me."

His mouth set. "Bet your boyfriend would love to hear about that."

It was another one of Malfoy's many ways to get out of a conversation that I knew we were going to have to have one day. One day we were going to have to talk about this awkward relationship that we had. In private, sometimes it seemed like we could have been friends. We managed to get along with each other from time to time. But when we were around anyone else - namely our friends from our respective Houses - we were the worst of enemies. Our hatred of each other had only gotten worse with my relationship with Cedric. It didn't make sense.

Everyone else in the class was watching us closely so I dropped my voice to ensure that they couldn't hear me. "He knows about Phil Troy and his offer to talk to me about his workings in professional Quidditch," I told him, trying to accentuate the fact that we were talking about career paths and nothing more. "It's no big deal to anyone but you. I mean, you sound like a jealous girlfriend."

Malfoy's jaws set. "I am -"

"Are you?" I interrupted. His eyes widened. If we were ever going to have this conversation... well... no time like the present. "Jealous that someone else got to me first?"

There was a look on Malfoy's face that I couldn't quite place. Shock? Disgust? Surprise? He managed to recover a few seconds later. "Don't stroke yourself. I hate you," Malfoy said tersely.

But I was slowly growing to believe that he wasn't telling me the truth. I wasn't so sure that Malfoy really did hate me. After all, how many times had someone asked me whether or not Malfoy had feelings for me? Ron had definitely mentioned it more than once. Even Hermione had said something. The very thought disgusted Harry. But it was something that Cedric had once said to me that kept bouncing around my head. He once mentioned that I hadn't realized others had thought that I was pretty. I hadn't realized who he'd meant at the time. Was it possible he meant Malfoy?

Maybe there was a chance that he was talking about Malfoy. I knew that he had appreciated the kiss that I'd once accidentally received from him in the Slytherin Common Room. He had said as much. He had once saved me from a massive falling jar during a Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson in Second Year. He had even briefly come to visit me in the hospital wing last year after an accident during Quidditch. He hadn't exactly been nice to me lately, but even I knew that he didn't hate me nearly as much as he hated the rest of my friends.

Actually, sometimes it seemed like he liked me more than he liked his own friends. I definitely didn't think that he hated me. I was more convinced that he disliked the fact that he didn't hate me. It was certain that he was annoyed by that fact. I stared at Malfoy for a long time before deciding to test my theory. I gave him a teasing smile and stepped into his torso, laying my hand against his chest. Much to my surprise, he gave what appeared to be an almost involuntary step back into me. I grinned again and shoved him backward roughly. He stumbled away from me.

He was staring at me like I had broken him out of a trance. "You hate me, huh?" I asked playfully.

There were a lot of interesting looks being passed around. The Slytherin's looked horrified at the change of pace. I noticed that Pansy Parkinson was giving me a look that could kill. I turned and winked at her, likely only upsetting her even more. Malfoy was still staring at me dumbly. It looked like he still didn't know what to do. At the moment, I didn't really know what to do either. I had just made a very awkward discovery about the feelings that Malfoy might have had for me and now I would have to deal with them.

But that would be another problem for another day. Malfoy continued to stare at me as I turned and walked away, cackling with glee. Maybe he really did hate me and maybe he didn't, but it didn't really matter to me right now. I knew, for that brief moment, he didn't hate me. For that brief moment, he had wanted me. I walked back over to my friends and took my place working with the skrewts again. I was happy to mess with Malfoy, who spent the rest of the lesson looking back and forth between me and the skrewts. I noticed that he didn't make another snide remark.

My little act had definitely thrown off his game. He wouldn't be getting it back anytime soon. It didn't look like it. Not the way that he was growling conspiratorially with his fellow Slytherin students. They kept looking back and forth between me and their leader. I made it a point to never actually meet his eyes. I knew that it was annoying him that I had acted on a brief impulse and was now ignoring him. He was being affected by this much more than I was. I was determined to focus all of my energy on trying not to get burned the skrewts.

"Well, at least the skrewts are small," Ron said quietly as we made our way back up to the castle for lunch an hour later.

Thankfully the Slytherin's were far ahead of us. They had torn off as soon as the class was over. Probably plotting to make my life miserable. "They are now, but once Hagrid's found out what they eat, I expect they'll be six feet long," Hermione said in an exasperated voice.

"Can we not go there?" I groaned.

We could deal with the skrewts in a few weeks. Right now, I had bigger things on my mind. "Well, that won't matter if they turn out to cure seasickness or something, will it?" Ron said, grinning slyly at her.

"You know perfectly well I only said that to shut Malfoy up. As a matter of fact, I think he's right," Hermione said. My mouth dropped open. Even if Malfoy was right, there was absolutely no way that I would ever admit it. I was surprised that Hermione would. "The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they start attacking us all."

"Not a bad idea," I conceded quietly.

"What did he say to you, Tara?" Harry asked suddenly, speaking for the first time in a long time. He had been oddly silent since the letters had come in this morning. "When he brought the two of you off to the side?"

I shrugged. "Same old. You know, he brings me off to the side and threatens me for a second but somehow still can't manage to go through with it," I told him.

Harry looked at me disbelievingly. "You looked like you were about to -"

"I was just messing with him," I interrupted. We'd been there and done that with the whole kissing Malfoy situation. I wasn't fond of repeating it. "He's a moron. And apparently romantically confused."

"What?" Harry asked.

"Don't worry about it," I said, waving him off.

They didn't need to know what we had said to each other. I knew that it would just stir up an argument. Hermione would think that I was childish for doing it, Ron would argue that I might have given Malfoy hope, and Harry would just spend the next two weeks complaining about Malfoy and his potential feelings for me. The four of us sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped ourselves to lamb chops and potatoes. Not my favorite meal, but I supposed that it would do. Hermione began to eat so fast that Harry, Ron, and I stared at her.

She couldn't have been worried about homework this soon into the year... I exchanged a look with Harry and Ron, shrugging at them to show that I was just as confused as they were. "Er - is this the new stand on elf rights? You're going to make yourself puke instead?" Ron finally asked her.

"No," Hermione said, with as much dignity as she could muster with her mouth bulging with sprouts. "I just want to get to the library."

"What?" Ron asked her in disbelief. "Hermione - it's the first day back! We haven't even got homework yet!"

Hermione shrugged and continued to shovel down her food as though she had not eaten for days. Then she leaped to her feet, said, "See you at dinner!" and departed at high speed.

We weren't the only ones to watch her run from the Great Hall. I shrugged at the boys again and went back to my meal. She would figure things out eventually. I could only assume that she was trying to see what she could do about house-elf rights, since starving herself was clearly not the way to go about it. There was only one person that she was hurting by doing that. Even though I went back to my meal once Hermione had darted off, Ron and Harry were still watching me, as if waiting for me to explain what was going on with her.

"She's probably researching what she can do with house-elf rights," I told them.

"She's nuts," Ron said, aghast.

"You're just now noticing that?" I asked him.

We all laughed into our goblets. We sat together in silence for a while when Cedric dropped into Hermione's recently vacated seat. He looked over at the boys. "Hi, Ron, Harry," Cedric said, giving them a small smile.

"Hey, Cedric," Harry and Ron replied together.

Cedric smiled at them again before turning to me. "Can I borrow you for a moment?" he asked.

"No," I said immediately.

Cedric gave a disbelieving laugh as I stared at him with a straight face. I wasn't going with him that easily. "I'll do your Astronomy homework," Cedric said slowly, giving me a knowing smile.

"Sold," I gasped happily, turning to Ron and Harry. "See you later, guys."

Everyone at the table laughed as I jumped up and joined Cedric on a walk, grabbing my things and throwing them over my shoulder. Knowing us, I wouldn't be back before class. Cedric grabbed my hand as we walked off together. I smiled up at him as he pressed a kiss into my hairline. I was actually wondering if he was really telling me the truth. Was he actually going to do my Astronomy homework for me? If he did that, it would only leave me any Divination homework we might get, which had long since become my least favorite class.

"Are you going to actually do my homework?" I asked him suddenly.

Cedric's head snapped down to mine as we wandered into the courtyard. He snorted under his breath. "You're a terrible student," Cedric said. I glared at him. "Do your homework."

"You offered!" I gasped.

"I just needed you to get up and come with me," Cedric pointed out.

Here I had been so excited to have no Astronomy homework... "Dirty liar," I growled at him. We both laughed as Cedric gave me a gentle nudge. I really didn't want to do that... Since he had messed with me, I was going to mess with him. I pushed up onto my tiptoes to smile at him. "Well, you've got me. What are you going to do with me now?" Cedric stared down at me, grinning madly. My face instantly turned beet red as I realized what my words had doubled as. "One of these days I'll learn to stop saying things like that."

Cedric grinned again. "No, you won't."

"Thanks for the faith," I snorted.

"Who said I wanted you to stop?" Cedric said quietly.

There went another one of those comments that sounded like I could have made them. I smiled at him, laughing as Cedric threw an arm over my shoulder, pulling me into him. We were both laughing quietly as we wandered further from the front doors. A few people were glancing over at us and smiling as we passed. It was something that I had noticed. People seemed to have started liking me a lot more since I had started dating Cedric. It was an effect that he had on almost everyone. No one genuinely hated him. I smiled again as Cedric pulled me out into the middle of the courtyard.

We stumbled out into the leaves and I grinned up at the warm sky. It wouldn't be long before the weather took a nasty dive into the fall and winter months. "Any particular reason that we're out here?" I asked, tugging at the belt loops on Cedric's pants.

He laughed as he stumbled into me. "Actually, yes. You're good at Potions," Cedric said. I nodded my agreement, loosening my grip on him slightly. "Do you happen to know anything about brewing a Polyjuice Potion?"

We stared at each other for a moment before I cracked a grin. He knew that I had used it before in my Second Year. He knew that I knew exactly how to make and use the Polyjuice Potion. "You're an ass," I said, shoving him gently. Cedric laughed as he stumbled back and then waltzed back up to my side. "What do you need to know?"

"The direction in our textbook isn't great. Which book did you use?" Cedric asked.

I thought about it for a moment before remembering. "Moste Potente Potions. It's in the Restricted Section, though. If you want to get it out, you'll probably need Snape to give you a note," I explained.

Cedric nodded thoughtfully. "Should I even ask how you managed to get it?"

"You really want to know?" I asked.

He might have enjoyed the story of exactly how moronic Gilderoy Lockhart was. "Well... no. Actually, no. I genuinely don't want to know how you four managed to get that book," Cedric said, shaking his head.

"It was legal," I argued, which it actually had been.

"Was it?" Cedric asked disbelievingly.

"Of course. You think that I would dare do something illegal?" I asked haughtily.

"Shut up," Cedric snapped.

He was rolling his eyes at me as I laughed again. The question of whether or not I would ever do something illegal was moronic. I spent most of my life doing illegal things. Cedric wrapped an arm around my back and pulled me in for a kiss. Momentarily forgetting just how open and not-private this area was, I smiled into the kiss and wrapped my arms over the back of his neck. He placed his hands on my hips as he gently stepped into me, pushing me back until my spine was pressed up against the well in the middle of the courtyard.

We were together for a long time before a stern voice ripped through the peaceful air. "Nox! Diggory!" I pulled my hands up to Cedric's chest and shoved him back, turning my head to smile guiltily at Professor McGonagall, who was watching us with an irritated glare. "Do I need to remind the two of you about our excessive displays of affection rules?"

"No, ma'am," we both said awkwardly.

"Back to class, you two," Professor McGonagall barked.

"Yes, ma'am," we both said again.

Snorting under our breath, we turned and walked back toward the castle, laughing. Once we were out of earshot of Professor McGonagall, I leaned into Cedric and shoved him to the side. "Look at you. Getting me in trouble. Traitor," I snapped.

Cedric stared at me. "You massive pain in the ass."

"Now that's rude," I said.

We laughed again as Cedric grabbed my hip and shoved me again. I giggled madly as I nearly tripped over my own shoes. Once I had regained my balance, I made a quick move to run off but Cedric managed to grab me from behind and pull me into him. I began laughing stupidly as the two of us twirled around together in the leaves. He stopped spinning us long enough to pull me in for a kiss. We had barely met lips when there was some laughter from the other side of the courtyard. We pulled apart to see some of Cedric's friends watching us.

Cedric cleared his throat and stepped back, still keeping an arm over my shoulder. "Guys," Cedric greeted them.

It was Jonathan, Ted, and Aaron - three of Cedric's many friends. They were in his year and had never been anything but nice to me. "Sorry to interrupt," Jonathan said, looking not sorry at all. "But Madam Pomfrey won't be happy if you're late because -"

"Hi Ted," I said awkwardly, running my hand through my hair. "How are you?"

"Pretty good, Tara. How about you?" Ted asked.

"She looks just fine," Aaron teased.

My face turned beet red. I cleared my throat and turned to Cedric, giving him an even stare. "On that note, I believe that it's time for me to head to Divination. Wish me luck," I told the boys.

"You'll need all the luck in the cosmos for that one," Jonathan snorted.

"True. Bye," I told Cedric.

"See you at dinner," he replied.

We exchanged a quick kiss (I was very grateful that his friends only let out tiny laughs) and I waved goodbye to Cedric's friends before turning and heading back into the castle. All of the students were filing out of the Great Hall from lunch and headed to their own classes. I headed straight for the staircase to head to Divination, waving to a few of my friends from Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw. I stopped very briefly to say hello to Hermione, who was heading to her own section of Ancient Runes. Eventually, I caught up with Harry and Ron on the stairs.

"Boys," I greeted, jumping in between them.

Harry and Ron turned back and smiled at me. "Where were you?" Harry asked, his gaze quickly turning suspicious.

"Front courtyard talking to Cedric and some of his friends," I explained simply. They both nodded. "You know that we apparently go over the Polyjuice Potion in Sixth Year?"

"Finally, something we'll be good at," Ron said, grinning madly.

My gaze narrowed. How much work had he actually done? "You will be good at, Ron?" I asked disbelievingly. "You'll still need to study, by the way. It was Hermione and I who did most of the work, just so you remember."

"Shut up," Ron snapped, embarrassed.

When the bell rang to signal the start of afternoon lessons, we continued moving along, getting hit by the throng of people who were attempting to get to their own classes. Harry, Ron, and I set off for North Tower where, at the top of a tightly spiraling staircase, a silver stepladder led to a circular trapdoor in the ceiling and the room where Professor Trelawney lived. I absolutely hated climbing through that ladder. Each time I did, I had some type of horrifying death or devastating loss or something of the likes.

The familiar sweet perfume spreading from the fire met my nostrils as we emerged at the top of the stepladder. I groaned and tossed my head back. I would have a headache from the perfume within minutes. As ever, the curtains were all closed; the circular room was bathed in a dim reddish light cast by the many lamps, which were all draped with scarves and shawls. Harry, Ron, and I walked through the mass of occupied chintz chairs and poufs that cluttered the room and sat down at the same small circular table.

As I sat on my pouf, waiting for Professor Trelawney to show up, I put my head in my hands and stared at the cloth-covered table. "I can't believe I didn't drop this class," I pouted.

"That makes two of us," Harry groaned.

"You don't have enough extracurricular classes, you moron. You can't drop this class. You won't have enough credits to graduate," I snapped.

Harry whipped around to me. "What?"

My eyes rolled so far back into my head that I thought they would get stuck there. "You really need to pay more attention," I told him. Harry scowled at me. "You can't start dropping classes until you're to O.W.L. level."

"Good day," said the misty voice of Professor Trelawney right behind me, making me jump.

A very thin woman with enormous glasses that made her eyes appear far too large for her face, Professor Trelawney was peering down at Harry and me with the tragic expression she always wore whenever she saw us. I rolled my eyes and laid my head down in my hands. We were surely in for another day of Professor Trelawney telling us every miserable possible way that we might die. I glanced up at her briefly and tried to force a smile on my face. Maybe she'd take it easy on us today. The usual large amount of beads, chains, and bangles glittered upon her person in the firelight.

"You are preoccupied, my dear," Professor Trelawney said mournfully to Harry. "My inner eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say that your worries are not baseless. I see difficult times ahead for you, alas... most difficult... I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass... and perhaps sooner than you think..." Her gaze tilted slightly to meet mine. Here we go. "And you, my dear... your difficulties are barely beginning... true horror awaits you... tragic loss..."

Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry and me, both of us who looked stonily back. At least she hadn't predicted my death. Just a bunch of horror and misery. Maybe we were starting to improve. Slowly but surely. Professor Trelawney swept past us and seated herself in a large winged armchair before the fire, facing the class. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who deeply admired Professor Trelawney, were sitting on poufs very close to her. I kicked my feet up into Harry's lap as I threw my head back.

"Tragic? The fact that I'll have to sit through this class for another year," I muttered to them.

Harry and Ron both snorted, hiding their heads in their arms to keep Professor Trelawney from hearing them. "My dears, it is time for us to consider the stars," Professor Trelawney said airily. "The movements of the planets and the mysterious portents they reveal only to those who understand the steps of the celestial dance. Human destiny may be deciphered by the planetary rays, which intermingle..."

But my thoughts had long since drifted. The perfumed fire always made me feel sleepy and dull-witted, and Professor Trelawney's rambling talks on fortune-telling never held me exactly spellbound. I hated listening to her. She just rambled on and on about things I couldn't even begin to care about or attempt to understand. I could see that Ron and Harry shared my sentiments - as did most of the class. Everyone seemed about ready to fall asleep. Though I couldn't help thinking about what she had just said to us.

"I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass...'"

But Hermione was right, I thought irritably, Professor Trelawney really was an old fraud. I wasn't dreading anything at the moment at all... Perhaps with the exception that I was going to have to sit in Divination all semester - and at least for the next few years. Nothing to fear at the moment. At least, unless you counted my fears that Sirius had been caught. But what did Professor Trelawney know? She had no idea that Sirius was still on the run and that he was in contact with Harry and myself. She couldn't have known. We had never spoken about it aloud while in Hogwarts.

My mind fluttered back to the other thing she had mentioned. The idea that I might end up suffering some kind of tragic loss and witness real horror. The only tragic loss would be my sanity after another year of this - something absolutely horrifying. But my mind once again fluttered back to Sirius. Could she have meant him? Were we going to lose Sirius? I couldn't handle that. No... Of course not. She was a crackpot. I had long since come to the conclusion that her brand of fortunetelling was really no more than lucky guesswork and a spooky manner.

Except, of course, for that time at the end of last term, when she had made the prediction about Voldemort rising again... and Dumbledore himself had said that he thought that trance had been genuine when Harry had described it to him. At least Voldemort hadn't risen quite yet. It had instead been his loyal follower, an ex-friend of our parents' - Peter Pettigrew. He had managed to escape that night and was still on the run. I was just hoping that he was hiding out until he died rather than attempting to help Voldemort rise again, as I had been having nightmares about lately.

"Harry! Tara!" Ron muttered.

"What?" Harry asked.

My head slowly rose from the table. We had both been lost in our own heads. I looked around; the whole class was staring at the two of us. I swallowed some bile that had risen in my throat. Thinking about Sirius and Pettigrew got me a little wound up sometimes. The very thought of what was coming made my heart race and a thin veil of sweat break out on my forehead. I sat up straight; I had been almost dozing off, lost in the heat and my thoughts. Professor Trelawney looked slightly annoyed that we had been half-asleep during her lecture.

"I was saying, my dear, that you were clearly born under the baleful influence of Saturn," Professor Trelawney said, a faint note of resentment in her voice at the fact that he had obviously not been hanging on her words.

"Born under - what, sorry?" Harry asked dumbly.

"Saturn, dear, the planet Saturn!" Professor Trelawney said loudly, sounding definitely irritated that he wasn't riveted by that news. "I was saying that Saturn was surely in a position of power in the heavens at the moment of your birth. Your dark hair... your mean stature... tragic losses so young in life... I think I am right in saying, my dear, that you were born in midwinter?"

"No, I was born in July," Harry said.

Ron and I both hastily turned our laughs into hacking coughs. Lavender and Parvati looked fully scandalized. I spent most of the lesson reflecting on Professor Trelawney's words - halfway between waking life and sleeping. Some kind of tragic loss. The only loss that I was suffering here that was tragic was all of the sufferings I was going through just sitting in this class. This entire thing was a massive waste of time. For just a brief moment, I wished that I had listened to Hermione and dropped Divination. At least I could have had a free period...

Half an hour later, each of us had been given a complicated circular chart and was attempting to fill in the position of the planets at their moment of birth. Staring at the chart for nearly five minutes, I was about halfway convinced that I should just fill it in with a bunch of random junk. Chances were that I would at least get a halfway decent grade. Filling out the positioning of the planet was dull work, requiring much consultation of timetables and calculation of angles - things that I wasn't quite in the mood to do yet. I wasn't fully over my summer brain.

"I've got two Neptune's here, that can't be right, can it?" Harry asked after a while, frowning down at his piece of parchment.

"Aaaaah, when two Neptune's appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a midget in glasses is being born, Harry..." Ron said, imitating Professor Trelawney's mystical whisper.

Seamus and Dean, who were working nearby, sniggered loudly. Harry, Ron, and I barked out laughter, putting our heads into our arms to keep from getting caught by Professor Trelawney. Once we had looked back up, Harry glanced over to my paper. "What did you get, Tara?" he asked.

I glanced down at my paper. It was mostly filled with nonsense and still half-empty. "Who the hell knows? I'm planning on asking Cedric. He's been through this before," I said honestly.

If there was anything that Cedric was good for, it was getting him to help me with my homework. He had been through all of the same classes that I had and had managed to pass them all. He frequently gave me his old Divination homework since we both knew that it was a waste of time and didn't really require studying. He couldn't use the excuse that I was cheating either. I knew that he had cheated on his homework two years ago. I pushed my parchment off to the side in annoyance and grinned at Ron and Harry. They were always annoyed that I had Cedric to help.

Our laughter wasn't nearly loud enough to mask the excited squeals from Lavender Brown. "Oh Professor, look! I think I've got an unexpected planet! Oh, which one's that, Professor?"

"It is Uranus, my dear," Professor Trelawney said, peering down at the chart.

"Can I have a look at Uranus too, Lavender?" Ron asked teasingly.

A bit of bile built up in my throat as I whacked him on the shoulder. Lavender and Parvati scowled at him as the boys in the class began laughing. "You're disgusting," I told Ron, who shrugged. "Although, even I have to appreciate that quick wit."

Most unfortunately, Professor Trelawney heard him. She spent the next ten minutes lecturing us about the way that we spoke to our fellow classmates and how it could affect our aura - or something like that. I had tuned out long before. It wasn't just the lecture that she assigned. Ron's unwarranted comment to Lavender, perhaps, was what made her give us so much homework at the end of the class. The longer that she spoke, the further that my jaw began to hang. It was more than even Snape assigned most of the time.

"A detailed analysis of the way the planetary movements in the coming month will affect you, with reference to your personal chart," Professor Trelawney snapped, sounding much more like Professor McGonagall than her usual airy-fairy self. I wasn't the only one to look shocked. That would take us all weekend. "I want it ready to hand in next Monday, and no excuses!"

As we rose to our feet to head out, I whacked Ron over the back of the head. "Nice one, asshole," I snarled. He at least had the decency to look ashamed.

"Miserable old bat," Ron said bitterly as we joined the crowds descending the staircases back to the Great Hall and dinner. "That'll take all weekend, that will..."

"It was your fault!" I barked. "We wouldn't have had anything if you'd just held your tongue."

"You're one to talk," Ron muttered.

"Lots of homework?" Hermione asked brightly, catching up with us. "Professor Vector didn't give us any at all!"

"Well, bully for Professor Vector," Ron said moodily.

"At least I have that much to look forward to later," I said somewhat happily. But Snape would likely counteract that. "As for the homework, ask genius over here."

"It wasn't my fault!" Ron yelped.

"You're the only person who could be at fault for that one!" I yelled back.

The two of us scowled at each other as we headed toward the grand staircase. As I hit the top step, Cedric appeared over my shoulder. "You don't look happy," he commented.

"Ron managed to get us a stupid amount of homework from Professor Trelawney," I growled irritably. Ron nodded. "You know how much I love Divination. I just don't get that goddamn class. I suck at it."

Cedric laid a hand across my back comfortingly. "You're not a Seer. Few people are."

"Doesn't help that I've now got at least a day's worth of homework ahead of me," I mumbled.

"How about I make it worth it?" Cedric offered.

A devious smile appeared on the corners of my mouth. "Oh. I'm intrigued," I said, turning around and walking backward away from him. "Tell me how you could make it worth it."

Harry and Ron groaned in disgust. Hermione glanced over and gave me a wry smile. She knew that I was only joking. Harry looked the slightest bit irritated at my insinuation, even though he knew it was a lie. I laughed at the boys and leaned over, whacking them over the back of the heads as I bounced back in step with Cedric. He wrapped an arm over my shoulder. Our large group reached the entrance hall shortly after, which was packed with people queuing for dinner. We had just joined the end of the line when a loud voice rang out behind us.

"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!"

Interrupting a rather riveting conversation with Cedric about whether or not I would actually take up Phil Troy on his offer to give my name to the professional Quidditch recruiters during the Third Task, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I turned. Cedric stopped just ahead of us to turn back and see what was happening. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing there, each looking thoroughly pleased about something. I rolled my eyes at him. Hadn't we already been through his obligatory daily harassment? My hands landed on my hips.

"You've got to be kidding me," I growled, staring at them.

"What?" Ron asked shortly.

"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley!" Malfoy yelled, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet and speaking very loudly so that everyone in the packed entrance hall could hear. "Listen to this! Further Mistakes at the Ministry of Magic. It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

My mind was stuck on the paragraph that Malfoy was reading. I didn't generally read the Prophet so I didn't usually care what it had to say. But something did strike me as a little odd. Dad had been mentioned in the first article by Skeeter last week. Why hadn't he been mentioned this time? Was it because he had better connections than Mr. Weasley? Or, perhaps, just because he was from a more powerful family. I shifted awkwardly. It was just another case of uptown-downtown with our families. Malfoy looked up, grinning deviously.

"Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?" Malfoy crowed.

"You want another black eye, Malfoy? Drop the fucking paper," I warned, stepping forward. Malfoy's eyes darkened to near-blackness. He had never liked my enjoyment of profanity. My teeth ground together as I pulled out of Cedric's grip. "No one's laughing, tough guy."

The two of us were going to end up actually killing each other one day. There was no doubt in my mind at the moment. Not with the way that we had been acting lately. Everyone in the entrance hall was listening now. Most of the Fourth-Year Gryffindor class stood just behind us. Malfoy scowled at me, looking as if he wished the air around me was poisonous. Cedric grabbed me around the waist - likely well aware that I was about to attack him - and stared coldly at Malfoy. Malfoy, in turn, straightened the paper with a flourish and read on:

"Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ('policemen') over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of 'Mad-Eye' Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene.

"And there's a picture, Weasley!" Malfoy continued gleefully, flipping the paper over and holding it up. "A picture of your parents outside their house - if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"

That was going too far. Did we really have to talk about each other's parents? "Yeah? Your father could do with a bit of a backbone, couldn't he? Or was that not him in the masks at the Quidditch World Cup?" I said loudly. There were mutters and gasps from all over the entrance hall. Malfoy's face drained of color. I continued, ensuring that everyone could hear me. "Not because he cares for it. Just because he's afraid of him. Right?"

"Want to say that again?" Malfoy hissed.

His hands clenched in the shape of fists. Likely the same ones that wanted to wrap around my throat. As usual, Cedric took a protective stance in front of me. "Step back, Draco. No one's impressed," Cedric warned quietly.

The entire entrance hall was watching in horror. People knew that it was only going to be so long before we all started fighting. It was a well-known fact that Malfoy and all of my friends hated each other. Me, at least, I was in an odd situation. I wasn't sure just how much I hated him or how much he hated me. One moment, we seemed to be friends. The next moment, it seemed like we were the worst of enemies. Although our relationship was a perfect example of love-hate, Ron's and Malfoy's wasn't. Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him.

"Get stuffed, Malfoy," Harry snapped. "C'mon, Ron..."

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter? So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?" Malfoy sneered.

For a moment I thought that Ron would actually kill Malfoy. I would have cheered him on at this point. "You know your mother, Malfoy?" Harry asked - both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron's robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy. I stood back, hoping they would lose their grip on Ron and let him attack Malfoy. "That expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?"

Malfoy's pale face went slightly pink. I grinned at Harry. I'd always hated the way that Malfoy spoke to everyone. The simple fact that he was going as far as insulting someone's mother? That was disgusting. I knew that Harry would have never normally insulted someone's mother, especially because of the simple fact that he'd never had his own. But Malfoy had started it by commenting on Mrs. Weasley's figure. There was a tense muttering throughout the crowd. I wondered if the rest of the Weasley siblings would hear about his last comment and kill him themselves.

"Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter," Malfoy warned darkly.

"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," Harry said, turning away.

At that same moment, there was a deafening bang. "Harry!" I gasped.

Several people screamed. I whirled around in horror. What the hell had that been? I'd just barely felt something white-hot pass at my side. It appeared that the same thing had grazed the side of Harry's face. Malfoy had attempted to attack Harry for what he'd said, while his back was turned, no less. A cowardly thing to do. Harry plunged his hand into his robes for his wand, but before he'd even touched it, we all heard a second loud bang (which definitely wasn't from Malfoy), and a roar that echoed through the entrance hall.

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"

Every person standing in the entrance hall spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing. My hand slapped itself over my mouth. There was no way. There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry - at least, his normal eye was looking at Harry; the other one was pointing into the back of his head.

"I'll teach you to curse someone when their back is turned! Did he get you?" Moody growled.

Professor Moody's voice was low and gravelly. As he appeared to be relaxing slightly, a wave of laughter erupted throughout the entrance hall as people finally began to understand what had just happened. Malfoy had finally gotten what he deserved. I grinned madly at the sight of the ferret. This was certainly a moment that I would never forget. Cedric was shaking with laughter, trying and failing to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. Even some of the Slytherin's appeared to be having a hard time keeping their trademark sneers on their faces.

"No, missed," Harry finally answered Moody.

"LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted.

"Leave - what?" Harry asked, looking quite bewildered.

"Not you - him!" Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret.

It seemed that Moody's rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head. That was an interesting observation. It meant that I would have to be careful with what I said whenever Moody was in the area. Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons. I looked across the entrance hall at Ted and nodded. Ted and some of Cedric's Hufflepuff friends took a step in front of the ferret, cutting off its path, forcing it to turn back toward Moody.

"I don't think so!" Moody roared, pointing his wand at the ferret again - it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more. "I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned."

Moody continued growling angrily as he bounced the ferret higher and higher, which was squealing in pain. For just a moment, I almost felt guilty for what was happening to Malfoy. He certainly deserved to be turned into a ferret. I would have loved to see him get stuck like that. But I didn't want to see him get seriously hurt. Especially not by a grown man - and a teacher, at that. Shouldn't he have known that this was a little much? I had never seen a punishment like this before. Filch certainly threatened it enough but I had never really seen him follow through with it.

"Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do..." Moody continued.

The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly. My foot moved on its own accord toward the ferret but a tugging sensation in my chest stopped me. It was almost as if someone was telling me not to go to it. To look for something else... Something else? What else? My eyes scanned the courtyard, but I couldn't find it. What was I supposed to be looking for? How had that thought even entered my mind? I glanced around me again, but everyone was laughing. No one else even looked moderately concerned. Not the way I was.

"Never - do - that - again -" Moody said, breaking my train of thought, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.

"Professor Moody!" a shocked voice shouted.

Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books. She looked absolutely horrified at the sight of Moody and the ferret. Most of the students on her side of the hall separated to let her through. While most people would have bowed down at the sight of an angry Professor McGonagall, Moody acted as though he had barely heard her. The laughter instantly stopped. Some people fled to the Great Hall for fear that they would get in trouble for laughing along.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," Moody greeted calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.

"What - What are you doing?" Professor McGonagall asked, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.

"Teaching," Moody answered.

"Teach - Moody, is that a student?" Professor McGonagall shrieked, the books spilling out of her arms.

"Technically it's a ferret," Moody said.

Moody didn't bother looking at Professor McGonagall once through their conversation. I stared in surprise as he simply continued bouncing the ferret up and down, no longer smacking it down on the ground. The smile returned to my face a moment later as Moody raised the ferret and tossed it over to Crabbe. He stumbled back as the ferret slid down the front of Crabbe's pants. Ignoring the potential of getting in trouble with Professor McGonagall for our childish behavior, everyone in the entrance hall began roaring with laughter again.

Goyle ran after the panicking Crabbe, who was swatting at his pants, trying to get the ferret out. "Stand still! Stand still!"

"No!" Professor McGonagall cried, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand.

The ferret slid down out of Crabbe's pants and started off back toward the courtyard. We all laughed at the look of shock on Crabbe and Goyle's faces - both of whom had apparently been bitten by their friend. Moody turned back and sent Harry and me a wink with his normal eye. We both laughed even louder. A moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. I snorted at the sight of him. He got to his feet, wincing.

"Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!" Professor McGonagall yelled loudly. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might've mentioned it, yeah," Moody said, scratching his chin unconcernedly, "but I thought a good sharp shock -"

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!" Professor McGonagall barked.

"I'll do that, then," Moody said, staring at Malfoy with great dislike.

Malfoy's gaze slowly turned around the entrance hall, realizing just how many people had been watching the entire thing happen. His gaze eventually landed on me. For just a brief second, my minimal pity for him returned. It was gone within an instant. I gave him a slight smirk, smiling gleefully at the look on his face. He turned away from me immediately after. Malfoy, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words 'my father' were distinguishable.

"Oh yeah?" Moody warned quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. "Is that a threat? Well, I know your father of old, boy." His voice began rising. "You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son... you tell him that from me. Now, your Head of House will be Snape, will it?"

"Yes," Malfoy muttered resentfully.

"Another old friend. I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape. Come on, you," Moody growled.

And then Moody seized Malfoy's upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons. The entire time he was yelling at Malfoy about how attacking someone when their back was turned was a lowly and cowardly thing to do. I also thought that I might have heard Moody threatening to give Malfoy something to tell his father about. Professor McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms, nudging everyone to get dinner.

As we walked through the entrance hall and into the Great Hall, I smiled happily, looking up at the enchanted ceiling. "Okay. I've got a new favorite teacher," I told Cedric, who was walking at my side.

"You'll never forget that one, will you?" Cedric asked, grinning.

"Never. That'll be etched into my brain permanently," I said honestly. Cedric laughed under his breath. I threw my head back and smiled. Malfoy would have no permanent injuries. Save maybe a paralyzing fear of ferrets. To his body, at least. His pride? That was another matter. "What a great way to start the first day of school. Have you had Moody yet?"

"Had him earlier today," Cedric answered.

"What was he like?" I asked curiously.

"Fascinating. You can tell that he's seen so much and done so many different things in his life. He's a little intense. In fact, he's a little frightening. I don't know if he's the best person to be teaching children. I don't think he knows the difference between a young adult and a fully-grown Auror," Cedric admitted. I raised a brow curiously. "But, I don't know, I doubt that there are many better people to have to teach us."

"That's an interesting outlook. I'm looking forward to having him," I said honestly.

"Might I suggest that you not speak out during his class and get yourself into trouble?" Cedric teased.

"I'll work on it," I said.

"No, you won't," Cedric reasoned.

"No, I won't," I agreed. We both laughed as Cedric threw an arm over my shoulder and pulled me toward the Gryffindor table. His friends at his own table were calling for him. "I'd stay and chat for a while longer but I'm really hungry."

Cedric nodded. "Agreed. See you later."

The two of us both smiled at each other. I laughed under my breath as Cedric wrapped a hand around my possessively and yanked me into him. I leaned up and pressed a long kiss against his mouth before walking off. Even without turning back, I knew that he was watching me with a wide grin. Harry and Ron groaned in disgust as Hermione gave me a brilliant smile. She had never known how I managed to be as bold as I was. Honestly, half of the time I didn't even know how I was as bold as I was.

As I walked off, I could hear Cedric's friends laughing and making comments in the background. They were talking about us (obviously) and wondering just how much time we were spending in the broom closets. I should have known that those comments were coming. When I finally risked a glance back at him, I gave an extremely obvious wink, stalking back to the Gryffindor table. I could see that Cedric's face was turning slightly red. I smiled, loving those moments when I was actually the one who got the chance to embarrass him.

"Don't talk to me," Ron said quietly to Harry, Hermione, and I as we sat down at the Gryffindor table, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened.

"Why not?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"Because I want to fix that in my memory forever," Ron told her, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. "Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret."

Harry, Hermione, and I all laughed, and Hermione began doling beef casserole onto each of our plates. She made sure to shut me up before I said anything about her being the mother. I leaned back in my chair and starting downing dinner, risking a glance at Malfoy out of the corner of my eyes. He was muttering conspiratorially with Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy Parkinson was hanging over his shoulder, appearing to be doting on him. He stopped talking as his eyes shot up to mine. I instantly looked away. I wasn't sure what was wrong with me. I should have been hysterically laughing.

"He could have really hurt Malfoy, though," Hermione said, becoming a welcome distraction from my thoughts. "It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it -"

"Hermione!" Ron gasped furiously, his eyes snapping open again. "You're ruining the best moment of my life!"

Hermione made an impatient noise and began to eat at top speed again. I stared at her curiously. It didn't take long for food to begin to run down her chin. I groaned in disgust as I exchanged a look with Ron and Harry, silently begging them to get her to stop eating the way that she was. Neither one of them seemed to know what to do, though. They merely stared at her. I rolled my eyes and instead threw myself over Hermione's shoulders. She stared at me like I was nuts as I began laughing, motioning over to the Slytherin table.

"Come on. That was so funny," I told her. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Malfoy's going to be terrified of ferrets for the rest of his life. Won't that make a great story years from now when we're looking back on this time fondly?"

"Don't tell me you're going back to the library this evening?" Harry asked, watching her eat.

"Got to," Hermione said thickly. "Loads to do."

"But you told us Professor Vector -"

"It's not schoolwork," Hermione interrupted Harry.

"House-elf crap," I told them.

Hermione gave me a sharp scowl as I grinned at her. None of the four of us spoke much over the next few minutes. I was quite enamored with watching Hermione eat her food at top-speed. It made me almost curious to know what she was doing with the house-elves. Was she really managing to figure that much out? Within five minutes, she had cleared her plate and departed. She didn't even bother saying goodbye. No sooner had she gone than her seat was taken by Fred Weasley, who took the now-empty spot at my side.

"Freddie," I greeted.

"Loser," Fred responded, barely looking at me.

"Thanks," I huffed.

Fred grinned and reached over to ruffle my hair. I rolled my eyes and shoved him off of me. "Moody! How cool is he?" Fred said.

"Beyond cool," George said, sitting down opposite Fred.

"Super cool," added the twins' best friend, Lee Jordan, sliding into the seat beside George.

"Hey, Lee," I greeted.

"Hey, Tara. We had him this afternoon," Lee told us.

They must have had Moody at the same time as Cedric. "What was it like?" Harry asked eagerly.

Fred, George, and Lee exchanged looks full of meaning. I raised a brow, curious if they thought the same thing about the lesson as Cedric had. "Never had a lesson like it," Fred said.

"He knows, man," Lee said.

"Knows what?" Ron asked, leaning forward.

"Knows what it's like to be out there doing it," George said impressively.

"Doing what?" Harry asked.

"Fighting the Dark Arts," Fred said.

"He's seen it all," George said.

"Amazing," Lee said.

The three of them grinned madly as I turned to them. "How'd you like him?" I asked them. All three of the boys smiled happily. "Cedric said that he was incredible but a little scary."

Fred was the first to roll his eyes. "Because Diggory always -"

Before Fred got the chance to finish his thoughts, he let out a pained grunt. I jumped back slightly, wondering what was wrong with him. Judging by the looks on their faces, I assumed that Lee was just as confused as I was and that Fred was angry with George for stepping on his foot. Why all of that had happened was another question entirely. Fred's voice had long since died and he was now staring at his twin brother in annoyance. I glanced between them confusedly. What the hell had just happened between them?

"What're you two -?"

"Nothing," Fred and George interrupted together.

"Okay," I said slowly.

It would be another question for another day. In the meantime, Ron dived into his bag for his schedule. "We haven't got him till Thursday!" he said in a disappointed voice.


	14. The Unforgivable Curses

The following two days passed without great incident unless you counted Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions. Professor Snape, who seemed to have attained new levels of vindictiveness over the summer, gave Neville detention, and Neville returned from it in a state of nervous collapse, having been made to disembowel a barrel full of horned toads. It took almost the entire Gryffindor Fourth Year class to reassure him that we would take care of any future toad-disembowelment that we might face in Potions.

From what Cedric had told me last night at dinner, apparently, it wasn't just our class that Snape was treating even worse than normal. He had told me that apparently, Snape had given almost everyone in his class detention within the first two days of classes. Even Cedric had been given one for pushing out his chair too loudly in the middle of his lesson. It definitely hadn't made me feel too great about my first day of Potions. But I had gotten off relatively unscathed. Instead, it was Neville who had gotten the brunt of his nasty attitude.

"You know why Snape's in such a foul mood, don't you?" Ron said to Harry and me as we watched Hermione teaching Neville a Scouring Charm to remove the frog guts from under his fingernails.

"Yeah. Moody," Harry said.

It was common knowledge that Snape really wanted the Dark Arts job, and he had now failed to get it for the fourth year running. Snape had disliked all of our previous Dark Arts teachers, and shown it - but he seemed strangely wary of displaying overt animosity to Mad-Eye Moody. Indeed, whenever I saw the two of them together - at mealtimes, or when they passed in the corridors - I had a distinct impression that Snape was avoiding Moody's eye, whether magical or normal. Not that I blamed him. No one seemed to seek out a conversation with Moody.

"I wonder why Dumbledore won't give Snape the Defense Against the Dark Arts job?" I said.

"Maybe he doesn't know that Snape wants it?" Harry offered.

"Don't be stupid," I said. Snape might as well have had a neon sign advertising his desperation for the position. "He knows. Everyone knows. But he's keeping him in the Potions position for a reason."

"What do you think?" Hermione asked from her spot with Neville.

"If I had to take a guess? Probably because Dumbledore wants to trust Snape, but I doubt that he does. Put him too close to the Dark Arts... I don't know. Maybe he thinks he'll be drawn back in?" I tried.

"That's as good a reason as any," Ron huffed.

"I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him, you know," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Moody?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah," Harry said.

As much as I hated Snape, I couldn't blame him. I was slightly afraid of Moody. "Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad and bounced him all around his dungeon..." Ron said, his eyes misting over.

"Imagine if Moody turns you into a fruit fly," I snapped.

Ron flushed slightly. "Shut up, Tara."

Malfoy might not have been my favorite person in the world, but that didn't mean I wanted to see him hurt. Especially by a teacher, who should have been trying to protect us. Most of the Gryffindor Fourth Years had been looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts since that incident. I wasn't looking forward to it, but I still arrived early on Thursday with everyone else just after lunchtime and queued up outside his classroom before the bell had even rung. The only person missing was Hermione, who turned up just in time for the lesson.

"Been in the -"

"Library," Harry finished her sentence for her. "C'mon, quick, or we won't get decent seats."

Everyone was shifting around excitedly outside Moody's door. I glanced around at the others nervously. Was I really the only one who wasn't looking forward to this? I had been excited earlier, but now there was something about the upcoming lesson - and its teacher - that set off the alarm bells in my head. Something just didn't seem right with Moody. He didn't seem to be his usual nervous self. He seemed to be a little more maniacal now. I was unnaturally quiet as the kids started entering the classroom. My newfound silence was noticed by everyone.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked.

"Huh?" I mumbled, looking over at him. "Yeah. I'm great."

Harry nodded blankly. "Are you sure?"

Was it worth saying something to him? Or, was he just going to think that I was overreacting again? "Does something seem a little off about Moody to you?" I asked, deciding to just go for it.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "He turned Malfoy into a ferret for a few minutes," Harry argued, smiling happily at the memory. "Yeah, I think he's a little unconventional but I also think he's one of the best teachers we'll ever have."

"Maybe that's true," I admitted. "But this seems wrong. He seems wrong."

Harry looked quite surprised at my statement. "Have you ever actually met him?"

The party had been years ago and we had been meters away from each other, but he had made a lasting impression. "Once very briefly when I was little. It was at a distance," I admitted. Harry didn't look the slightest bit convinced that I knew what I was talking about. "But this still seems weird with his personality. He was more... twitchy. He seems oddly calm."

My arguments were weak at best. "Maybe he just needed to get back into it," Harry suggested.

"We'll see," I said carelessly.

"Relax, Tara," Harry said, resting a hand on my shoulder. "He's -"

"Just a teacher?" I offered. Teachers at Hogwarts were some of the reasons that I had as many trust issues as I did. "All three of them have attempted to kill us so far - granted, one of them was on accident. But we're batting three-for-three right now."

Harry was silent for a long time. I hoped that he was thinking about what I had told him. We didn't have a good track record when it came to the teachers who filled the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Quirrell had actually had Voldemort buried in the back of his head and had tried to murder us down in the dungeons at the end of First Year. Lockhart had tried to erase our memories and frame us - leaving Ginny to die - at the end of Second Year. Remus Lupin - as wonderful as he was - had tried to kill us in his werewolf form in our Third Year.

Granted, that one had been an accident, but it still counted. All three of our past teachers had tried to kill us. Would this one be any different? I didn't think so. "Cheerful thoughts," Harry teased.

"They're honest though," I told him.

Together we hurried into four chairs right in front of the teacher's desk, much to my displeasure, took out our copies of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, and waited, unusually quiet. There was almost no chatter in the room. Not even from the Slytherin's, who usually spent the beginning of a lesson picking on the Gryffindor's. Soon we heard Moody's distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor and he entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. I could just see his clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes.

"You can put those away, those books," Moody growled, stomping over to his desk and sitting down. "You won't need them."

It took everyone a moment to actually put their books away. I exchanged a quick look with Seamus, who was sitting across from me on the other side of the room. He shrugged and tossed his book into his bag. I slowly slipped my book into my messenger bag. Last year Professor Lupin had asked us to put our books away and had given us a practical lesson on Boggarts. I had a feeling that this wouldn't be quite as amusing as that lesson had been. Everyone quickly returned the books to their bags, Ron and most of the rest of the students looking excited.

"You okay?" Hermione whispered to me.

"I wouldn't talk in here if I were you," I whispered back, still staring up at Moody's desk.

Judging by the slight twitch of Moody's brow, I assumed that he had heard me. I shifted awkwardly in my chair, focusing my gaze instead down on the grain of the wood desk. Out of the corner of my eyes, I watched as Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled gray hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swiveled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered. I tensed slightly as he made it to the N's.

He didn't even say my name. His full gaze instead lifted to meet mine. "Good to see you again, Nox," Moody said slowly.

I was startled but managed to force out, "You as well, M - Professor."

We spent a long time just staring at each other. I didn't know what else I was supposed to say, but the stare that Moody was giving me told me that he was expecting something else. I was more focused on his voice. There was something almost sinister in it. Almost as if he was challenging me to say anything about my very obvious distrust of him. He wasn't the man that I had seen once before. I stared at Moody for a while longer before nodding. A shiver shot up my spine. It was like his magical eye was looking straight into my core. I was more than grateful when he finally looked away.

It didn't help that everyone was staring at me. "Right then, I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class," Moody said when the last person had declared themselves present. Thankfully, everyone had now turned back to him. "Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures - you've covered Boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"

There was a general murmur of assent. I said nothing, instead, thinking on his words for a long time. Even Remus had written him a letter about what we had studied? It meant that at least someone outside of the castle knew what was going on. Remus had once told me that I could write to him whenever something was wrong or if I needed anything. I could ask him what was going on. I could ask him just how much he knew about Moody. I could ask him if things seemed a little off to him because they definitely seemed off to me.

Sticking out of the corner of my messenger bag was a blank piece of parchment. I stared down at it for a long time, debating on whether or not to pull it out. I wanted to write my letter but I knew that I couldn't do it here. It would be way too big of a risk. I couldn't write a letter asking if Moody was insane with him standing mere feet away from me. He could end up seeing the letter. I wouldn't do it now but I would do it later. I had to say something about him to someone later. Someone that I trusted but someone who was out of Moody's reach. Remus would be perfect.

"But you're behind - very behind - on dealing with curses," Moody continued, breaking me from my thoughts. "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark -"

"What, aren't you staying?" Ron blurted out.

Moody's magical eye spun around to stare at Ron. I swallowed thickly as I slowly turned to him. Ron looked extremely apprehensive with Moody's gaze on him, but after a moment Moody smiled - the first time I had seen him do so. The effect was to make his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, but it was nevertheless good to know that he ever did anything as friendly as smile. Although there was a slight twisting in my gut as I noticed that the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Ron, on the other hand, looked deeply relieved.

"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody asked. Ron nodded awkwardly. "Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago... Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledore... One year, and then back to my quiet retirement."

Back to his quiet retirement? Since when had Moody ever really had a quiet retirement? It seemed that the people at the Ministry were always talking to him or about him. They regularly stayed in contact with him. And what was the favor he owed Dumbledore? Moody gave a harsh laugh that chilled me to my core and then clapped his gnarled hands together.

Before he could continue speaking, I asked, "I thought you still worked on cases from your home?"

The entire class snapped to look at me. Hermione slapped my leg somewhat painfully. "Tara!" she hissed.

You could have heard a pin drop in the classroom as Moody slowly turned to meet my eyes. "You're as inquisitive as your mother," Moody said. I narrowed my eyes at his seemingly threatening comment. "That's a dangerous trait to have."

"When used in the wrong manner," I answered before thinking better of it.

Hermione twitched so intensely that I thought she would fall from her chair. Moody's lips tilted up into a slight smile. "And as foolhardy as your father," he continued.

"I've always admired that about him," I said.

Shut up, Tara! I knew that I needed to stop. It was obvious by the way the rest of the class was watching our exchange in horror. Even I couldn't believe that I had just said what I had. What an idiot I was being. I knew that Moody wouldn't appreciate being interrupted or challenged the way that I just had. I knew how foolish I was being. I knew that Moody could rip me in half. But he didn't seem upset. His eyes and lips actually tilted up in something that looked like a moderately amused smile. I was extremely relieved when he finally looked away from me.

"So - straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you counter-curses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the Sixth Year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking."

Lavender jumped and blushed. Everyone turned back to see what she had been doing. She looked mortified. She had been showing Parvati her completed horoscope under the desk. At least someone had finished their work. The entire class was watching tensely as they realized what had just happened. Apparently, Moody's magical eye could see through solid wood, as well as out of the back of his head. He had turned back to the chalkboard and was now scribbling away furiously.

"You need to find somewhere else to put your chewing gum other than the underside of your desk, Mr. Finnigan!" Moody continued furiously.

Again, the entire class jumped, whipping back around to see Seamus shooting up from sticking his gum underneath his desk. "Aw, no way, the old codger can see out the back of his head," Seamus groaned.

Moody turned from writing out the three Unforgivable Curses to chuck the chalk across the classroom and nearly hit Seamus. Everyone ducked out of the way just in time to keep from getting hit with it. Seamus now looked extremely concerned. In fact, everyone did. Moody continued on with his berating, yelling at what appeared to be at the top of his lungs.

"I can hear across classrooms!" Moody shouted deafeningly. My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my head from how wide they were opened. Moody was silent for a moment before continuing, much more calmly this time. "When it comes to the Dark Arts, I believe in a practical approach. But first, which of you can tell me how many Unforgivable Curses there are?"

"Three, sir," Hermione said gently.

"And they are so named?" Moody asked.

"Because they are unforgivable," Hermione continued. "Use of any one of them will -"

"Will earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban. Correct," Moody said, finishing writing on the board. He turned back to the class. "So... do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Ron's and Hermione's. I stared at him for a long time, unsure whether or not I wanted to admit it. I had a feeling that most of the students in the room (save most of the Muggle-Born's) would know what they were. Even Harry knew one of them. But no one really ever liked to openly talk about them. Moody eventually pointed at Ron, though his magical eye was still fixed on Lavender. Much to my surprise, his magical eye swiveled over to fixate on me. I straightened up slightly, refusing to look afraid.

"Nothing to say, Nox?" Moody asked, his body still turned toward Ron.

"You and I both know that I know them all," I said daringly.

Moody very slowly turned so that the rest of his body was facing me. His extended his arms slightly. "Would you like to tell the class?" he asked.

I swallowed thickly. "Not particularly. There's a reason that they're Unforgivable and that we're not supposed to learn about them until we're in Sixth Year," I answered.

Moody grinned somewhat nastily. This lesson seemed so wrong. Why were we learning about them? "So, which curse shall we see first?" Moody asked, turning again. "Weasley!"

Ron jumped about a foot in the air. "Yes?"

"Give us a curse," Moody prompted.

"Er, my dad told me about one..." Ron said tentatively. He could barely meet Moody's eyes. Moody hummed, nodding for him to continue. "Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?"

"Ah, yes. Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse," Moody said appreciatively. It was the least lethal of the Unforgivable Curses, but no less repulsive. "Perhaps this will show you why."

Moody turned from the board and straightened up heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Everyone leaned forward slightly to see what he had in there. There was a collective gasp from the classroom as one of their greatest fears had now come into the classroom. No one particularly liked them. There was one large black spider scuttling around inside the glass jar. I could feel Ron recoil slightly next to me. Ron hated spiders of all types. Even Hermione and Harry stiffened slightly.

"Hello," Moody said, fingering around the spider. "What a little beauty."

Something about the upcoming demonstration was already bothering me. Moody was treating the spider as if it were a friend, yet he was about to do one of the most monstrous things someone could do to another living being. Even using an Unforgivable Curse on animals were considered to be cruel. Moody reached fully into the jar, caught the struggling spider, and held it in the palm of his hand so that we could all see it. I shifted back in my seat slightly, not prepared for whatever was about to come. I had never seen one of the spells performed in person.

Moody then pointed his wand at the spider and muttered, "Imperio!"

There was some gasping as the spider gave a slight shudder, rising up into the air along with the movements from Moody's wand. He flicked the spider off to the side and onto Neville and Dean's desk near the front of the room. Both boys jumped backward in surprise. About half of the class was giggling at the sight of the powerless spider. But I wasn't. Neither was Hermione. Apparently, she was one of the only other students to really understand what was going on. Moody shifted his hand upward again and tossed the spider onto Crabbe's head.

"Don't worry," Moody said reassuringly as Crabbe poked at his head, looking horrified. "Completely harmless."

Crabbe was still gasping as Moody raised the spider up again off his head, over Blaise's shoulders, and onto Parvati's desk. She slid back in her seat as the spider crawled over her hand and arm. A moment later, Moody raised the spider up in the air again. The class was clearly unsettled but most of the people in the room were laughing. I, on the other hand, watched the scene in horror. I knew that the spider wasn't a person, but that didn't make a difference to me. This was horrifying. That spell had been used on people before. It had driven some people to do unspeakable acts.

"But if she bites... she's lethal!" Moody continued.

Moody raised the spider up again and brought it back to the front of the room. I jumped backward in my seat slightly as the spider hovered over Ron's head for a moment. He was groaning in horror as Moody released his grip on the spider and allowed it to fall onto Ron's head. Ron himself looked like he was about to pass out. Moody was laughing maniacally, as was most of the class. But one person was laughing louder than almost anyone else. Draco Malfoy, who was sitting on the other end of our table.

"What are you laughing at?" Moody howled at Malfoy.

Moody sent the spider straight onto Malfoy's face. It landed over his nose as he immediately pedaled backward in fear. The class roared in laughter. Even I cracked the slightest smile at the look on Malfoy's face. He was yelling to Goyle to get the spider off of his face, but Goyle didn't appear to have the slightest idea of what to do. At my table, Ron was laughing with glee while Harry clapped like a moron. Hermione was the only other person in the classroom that didn't appear to be having a good time.

"Think it's funny, do you?" Moody growled at the class.

Moody pulled the spider back toward himself and allowed it to fall into his open hand. The spider jerked around for a moment before leaping from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and then began swinging backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a back flip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance. At this point, everyone was laughing - everyone except Moody.

He had a vague smile on his face but didn't look amused. "Stop," I demanded, speaking over the roar of laughter.

The laughter in the classroom died instantly. The air quickly turned awkward as gazes shot in between myself and Moody. He flicked the spider over to a glass in the far corner of the room. It landed on the circular mirror, stumbling slightly. I straightened up as the class turned to look at me. Their gazes were still shooting between the two of us, even though neither of us had spoken yet. Moody eventually raised the spider back off of the class and dropped it onto my desk. Hermione watched, looking just as upset as I was about this, but definitely not like she was planning on saying anything.

"Bother you, does it?" Moody finally asked me.

I swallowed the nerves that had lodged themselves in my throat. "To seek control of a creature weaker than yourself? Manipulate it like a puppet for amusement?" I asked, pointing to the clearly dazed spider. "Yes. It bothers me."

"Cowardly to manipulate someone into doing something for your own amusement? For your own purposes? What is the difference between this and manipulating someone into admitting the information you needed?" Moody asked.

Any argument that I had thought of had died right there on my tongue. There was something in the way that he was staring at me... It was like we were the only two people in the room. Everyone else melted away as our eyes locked together. Something about the way that he was speaking to me had set me off. Something was wrong here. Something told me that he was referencing something that I had once done. Something that had exactly explained what he'd just said and contradicted what I had said earlier.

Was there some way that he was actually referencing the incident with the Polyjuice Potion in our Second Year when we had used it against Malfoy to find out who the Heir of Slytherin was? There was no way. Absolutely not. How would he have even known about that? We hadn't ever told anyone about it, save Malfoy, who certainly wouldn't have told Moody about it. How else would he have known? He hadn't been around my parents since I'd been in my Second Year and my parents would have never repeated me doing something like that anyway. We had all kept it between ourselves.

There was an eerie silence that was echoing through the class. I wasn't sure what we were supposed to do next. The brief spout of bravery that had struck long enough for me to snap at Moody had long since dissipated. At this point, I was just hoping that he wouldn't kill me for daring to speak out against him. Moody eventually raised the spider up into the air again and smacked straight against Malfoy's face, just as he had done earlier. The class began howling with laughter again. It felt like someone had lifted a weight from off of my chest as Moody broke his stare with me.

"You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?" Moody howled at the other students.

The laughter died away almost instantly. I almost wanted to say something so that the other students in the class would understand why I had so suddenly said something. It might have looked rather comical, but it wasn't. Moody was taking away any free will on the spider's behalf. If he could do that much with a spider, wouldn't he have been able to do the same with a full-grown person? With no one laughing anymore, the class had fallen into an eerie silence as Moody paced back and forth along the front of the classroom.

"Talented, isn't she? What should I make her do next?" No one answered the obviously rhetorical question. "Total control," Moody continued quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats..."

Ron gave an involuntary shudder. My own throat started closing up at the thought of someone force-feeding someone else a spider. Or something even worse. It was a disgusting thought. The class began shifting awkwardly and, if I was correct, guiltily. We had all just been laughing at the idea of a living creature being controlled against their will. But we had thought nothing of it because it was a spider and hadn't done anything horrible. If nothing else, I supposed that Moody had gotten his point across.

"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse," Moody said. Everyone in the room knew that he was talking about the days in which Voldemort had been all-powerful. I shuddered slightly. "Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will. The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Once again, everyone jumped. Moody was certainly one of the most startling people I had ever met. He certainly had a flair for the dramatic. He slowly strode back and forth around the front of the classroom, looking at each student. Most of them flitted their gazes away the moment he looked at them. Eventually, Moody walked back toward the desk, picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar. I had almost forgotten about the spider.

"Anyone else know one?" Moody asked, shattering the tense silence. "Another illegal curse?"

For a moment, no one moved. I certainly wasn't going to move. I had no interest in saying anything. Much to my surprise, Malfoy didn't even offer the next curse. I knew he would have known them all perfectly well. Eventually, Hermione's hand flew into the air again and so, to my slight surprise, did Neville's. The only class in which Neville usually volunteered information was Herbology which was easily his best subject. Neville looked surprised at his own daring. Every eye in the class shot over to Neville.

"Yes?" Moody asked quietly, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on Neville.

"There's one - the Cruciatus Curse," Neville said in a small but distinct voice.

My stomach churned in knots. This was the one curse that I hadn't been looking forward to seeing. At least the Imperius Curse wasn't always despicable to watch. The Killing Curse was fast and over with in seconds. But the Cruciatus Curse was drawn out. We would have to watch someone be slowly tortured. If it was anything like what I had experienced back at the World Cup, I didn't want to see anyone suffer through it. Not even a spider. By now, Moody was looking very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes.

"Your name's Longbottom?" Moody asked, his magical eye swooping down to check the register again.

Neville nodded nervously, but Moody made no further inquiries. Most of the students in the class swiveled back around to look at the front of the blackboard. The conversation had taken a relatively nasty turn. No one wanted to see what was about to go on. Turning back to the class at large, Moody reached into the jar for the spider again and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move. Part of me so desperately wanted to jump up and save the helpless little creature.

"The Cruciatus Curse. Correct! Correct!" Moody said, almost a little too happily. "Particularly nasty. The torture curse. Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea." I raised a brow curiously as he pointed his wand at the spider. "Engorgio!"

The spider swelled. The larger it got, the more I began to realize that it was shrieking in what I assumed was pain. I cringed slightly and turned away from Moody. When I looked back I saw that the once-tiny spider was now larger than a tarantula. Abandoning all pretense, Ron pushed his chair backward, as far away from Moody's desk as possible. He wasn't the only one. A number of the students in the class were just as afraid of spiders as Ron was. Most of them looked ready to sprint from the room.

Ignoring the nervously shifting students, Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, "Crucio!"

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but I was sure that if it could have given voice, it would have been screaming. It reminded me very much of the way that I had felt when the curse had hit me back at the World Cup. Was it really the Cruciatus Curse that had hit me? I looked back at the spider, running my hands over my arms to stop the chills. Moody did not remove his wand and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently.

"Stop it!" Hermione yelled shrilly.

Everyone in the class whirled around to her. No one had ever heard Hermione yell at a teacher. She hadn't even really yelled when she had up and walked out of Professor Trelawney's class last year. I looked around at her. She was looking, not at the spider, but at Neville. I followed her gaze and saw that Neville's hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, his knuckles white, his eyes wide and horrified. Neville was always a little shaky, but this was something else. Moody raised his wand. The spider's legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch.

"Reducio," Moody muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. He put it back into the jar. It was then that I realized that I had actually been panting. In fear or anxiety, I supposed. "Pain. You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse... That one was very popular once too. Right... anyone know any others?"

"What does it feel like?" I interrupted before anyone could give him the Killing Curse.

Now the class was looking at me. My face reddened slightly but I didn't back down. I wanted to know. Was that what had happened to me? Moody turned to me slowly, his interest piqued. "Miss Nox?" Moody asked.

"What does it feel like?" I repeated, trying to hold as steady as possible. "Being hit by the curse?"

"When cast successfully the curse inflicts intense, excruciating pain on the victim," Moody said quietly. I twitched slightly. It had definitely been excruciating. "While the curse does not physically harm the victim, it does stimulate the pain receptors. The pain is said to be worse than one thousand white-hot knives, boring into the skin. Well beyond what most people will ever experience." It seemed like Moody was done speaking, but he continued. "Curious to know what someone would feel if you were to use it?"

"Is it that easy?" I asked, motioning to the still-twitching spider.

"Depends on the person," Moody said, shrugging his shoulders carelessly. "If you mean it."

"What?" I asked.

What was that supposed to mean? If you meant it? Moody didn't answer me. Instead, he merely stared at me, giving me a very slight smile. Our little stare-off didn't seem to have any end in sight. At least, that was until Malfoy swiveled around in his chair and kicked me in the leg. I jumped and groaned, leaning down against my desk, feeling my leg throb in pain. I looked back up to Malfoy to either give him a very rude gesture or say something nasty, but he was already looking back at the board. I scowled at the back of his head. What the hell was the kick for?

It was a long time before Moody finally looked away from me, seemingly unaware of what had just happened between Malfoy and myself. Once he had, he repeated his previous question asking for the final Unforgivable Curse. I looked around curiously. From the looks on everyone's faces, I guessed that they were all wondering what was going to happen to the spider now. Were they all wondering if Moody was really about to kill the spider, just as I was? Hermione's hand shook slightly as, for the third time, she raised it into the air.

"Yes?" Moody asked, looking at her.

"Avada Kedavra," Hermione whispered.

Several people looked uneasily around at her, including Ron. Even Malfoy looked the slightest bit put-off by the fact that she'd said the words out loud. I turned to her very slowly. I hadn't expected anyone to actually say that. I'd thought that this was something Moody would need to say for himself. Harry glanced over at me and I nodded. It was the curse that had killed Harry's parents and so many others. And now Moody was... was he really going to show off the Killing Curse in a class with children in it?

"Ah," Moody grumbled quietly, another slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth. "Yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra... the Killing Curse."

Moody put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Moody's fingers, but he trapped it and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface. I backed into the chair as far as I could go, but it didn't matter. We were all going to be stuck having to watch it. Everyone in the room looked about ready to throw up. Moody raised his wand, and I felt a sudden - and rather disgusting - thrill of foreboding.

"Avada Kedavra!" Moody roared.

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air - instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Its legs were curled in on itself, a surefire sign that the spider was gone. Several of the students stifled cries; Ron had thrown himself backward and almost toppled off his seat as the spider skidded toward him. It was only then that I realized that my legs were trembling slightly. Moody swept the dead spider off the desk onto the floor.

"Not nice. Not pleasant. And there's no countercurse. There's no blocking it," Moody said calmly as if he hadn't just murdered a living creature in front of a bunch of students. "Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me."

Barely risking a glance off to the side, I saw Harry's face redden as Moody's eyes (both of them) looked into his own. Everyone else was looking around at him too. Harry stared at the blank blackboard as though fascinated by it, but clearly not really seeing it at all. His eyes had a slight glaze in them, the same that I was sure my own had. So that was how his parents had died... exactly like that spider. Almost the way my own parents had died... It wasn't what I had expected. Not brutal or loud or bloody and disgusting. Just... quick and perhaps even painless.

Honestly, it was almost underwhelming. It was nothing like I had initially been expecting. I wondered if it was the same for everyone. Did they all fall to the ground looking like porcelain statues? Like sleep had just taken over them? Like they would wake at any moment with no memory of what had happened? Had Harry's parents been unblemished and unmarked too? Had they simply seen the flash of green light and heard the rush of speeding death, before life was wiped from their bodies? Did they have a chance to even realize what was about to happen to them?

My concern then shot over to Harry. His forehead was breaking out in a thin sweat. This was something that I knew we would have to talk about eventually. Harry had once confided in me that he had been picturing his parents' deaths over and over again for three years now, ever since he'd found out they had been murdered, ever since he'd found out what had happened that night: to try and save his own life, Wormtail had betrayed his parents' whereabouts to Voldemort, (and my own in the process) who had come to find them at their cottage.

His dreams often centered around what we knew about that night. How Voldemort had killed Harry's father first. How James Potter had tried to hold him off while he shouted at his wife to take Harry and run... Voldemort had advanced on Lily Potter, told her to move aside so that he could kill Harry... how she had begged him to kill her instead, refused to stop shielding her son... and so Voldemort had murdered her too, before turning his wand on Harry. Only the spell rebounding from Harry had kept him from advancing to my home and doing the same to my family.

Harry had known those details because he had heard his parents' voices when he had fought the Dementors last year - for that was the terrible power of the Dementors: to force their victims to relive the worst memories of their lives, and drown, powerless, in their own despair. It was my own battles with the Dementors that had shown me how angry my parents were with Wormtail after discovering that he had given them up to Voldemort - having been convinced to give their secret location to Wormtail rather than Remus Lupin.

As I stared at the corpse of the spider, I saw a brilliant flash of green light in my vision. There was a slight hint of red - two little beads - in the blazing green light. I wasn't really sure what it was. Was I finally really remembering the night that Voldemort had tried to kill my parents? I didn't know. All I knew was that I could hear screaming in the background. There seemed to be hundreds of voices in the background yelling at each other. My head was throbbing painfully as I tried to throw myself back into the lesson with great effort.

My head was spinning and for a brief moment, I thought I would vomit. Hermione's hand laid itself on my shoulder and I managed to shake my head clear of the fog that had built up in my mind. Hermione looked concerned about me but I shook her off. That would be a problem for another time. Moody was speaking again, from a great distance, it seemed to me. It seemed like I was listening to him from underwater. With a massive effort, I finally pulled myself back to the present and listened to what Moody was saying.

"Avada Kedavra is a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it - you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it. Now, if there's no countercurse, why am I showing you? Because you've got to know. You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Moody roared, and the whole class jumped again.

While everyone tried to gather themselves from Moody's sudden outburst, I was hung up on his previous statement. Appreciate it? Appreciate any of those things? I was disgusted by the very thought. Moody looked excited at the prospect of using the curses, almost manic. I listened to him as he spoke, wondering how he could sound so thrilled by the very thought of the Unforgivable Curses. Wondering why he was staring at me, almost as if to dare me to say anything against him. It was becoming very clear very quickly that we didn't like each other.

"Now... those three curses - Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus - are known as the Unforgivable Curses," Moody continued, drawing my attention back to the lesson. "The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills... copy this down..."

We spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. Moody seemed to have calmed down slightly since originally showing us the Unforgivable Curses. But my eyes remained locked on the dead spider for most of the lesson. I knew enough about these curses. I wasn't particularly interested in learning more. No one spoke until the bell rang - but when Moody had dismissed us and we had left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth. Most people were discussing the curses in awed voices.

"Did you see it twitch?"

"- and when he killed it - just like that!"

They were talking about the lesson as though it had been some sort of spectacular show, but I hadn't found it very entertaining - and nor, it seemed, had Hermione or Harry. We were some of the few people who weren't talking about the demonstration of the curses. The Slytherin's perhaps looked the least affected, but even some of them looked a bit nauseated. Perhaps because their own parents had been users of the curses - or subjected to them if they had performed poorly for Voldemort during his reign.

"Hurry up," Hermione said tensely to Harry, Ron, and I.

I figured that she wanted to get as far away from Moody as quickly as possible. I didn't blame her in the slightest. So did I. "Not the ruddy library again?" Ron asked.

"No," Hermione said curtly, pointing up a side passage. "Neville."

We all turned back to see what she was talking about. Neville was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite him with the same horrified, wide-eyed look he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse. What was wrong with him? I had known Neville for years. Usually, when he was afraid, he got shaky and stammered a lot as he darted away from the crowd. This was something else. He looked like he had just seen a ghost. The four of us slowly advanced on her.

"Neville?" Hermione said gently.

It was as if we had barely spoken to him. It took him a long time to even react. I was about to place my hand on his shoulder when Neville looked around. It took another few moments for him to glance up and look us in the eyes. I tried to give him a slight smile but it still didn't seem to be doing anything. He looked as though someone had smashed him over the side of the head with a hammer. From what I could tell, he wasn't going to be back to his normal self for a long while.

"Oh, hello," Neville said, his voice much higher than usual. "Interesting lesson, wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner, I'm - I'm starving, aren't you?"

"Neville, are you all right?" Hermione asked.

"Oh yes, I'm fine," Neville gabbled in the same unnaturally high voice. "Very interesting dinner - I mean lesson - what's for eating?"

"Neville, are you sure you're okay?" I asked.

Ron gave the three of us a startled look. Each one of us took a step forward toward Neville. I didn't want to approach him too quickly at the risk of startling him. Neville had never had the strongest constitution in the world but this was something else. Normally he was pretty good at shaking things off. Not this time. Something had really disturbed him.

"Neville, what - ?"

But an odd clunking noise sounded behind us and we turned to see Professor Moody limping toward us. My hand was mere inches from Neville's shoulder but it dropped at the sight of Moody. I wondered if he would walk past us but it didn't seem that way. It looked like he was coming straight for us. All five of us fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than they had yet heard.

"It's all right, sonny," Moody said to Neville. "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on... we can have a cup of tea..."

My voice lodged itself in my mouth. I wanted to say something, to pretend that Neville and I were supposed to have something to do, like studying, but I couldn't force the words out. Neville looked even more frightened at the prospect of tea with Moody. Not that I blamed him. I definitely didn't want to be trapped in a room alone with Moody. I didn't even want to be in a crowded classroom with him. Neville neither moved nor spoke. Moody turned his magical eye upon Harry.

"You all right, are you, Potter?"

"Yes," Harry said, almost defiantly.

Moody's magical eye swiveled around in his head to look at me. "And you, Nox?"

Suddenly, I found myself able to speak again. "Why wouldn't I be?" I asked sharply.

Something about Moody set my nerves on edge. There was something seriously wrong with him. Moody's blue eye quivered slightly in its socket as it surveyed Harry and I. Harry reached over and placed a hand on my back, almost as if the two of us were standing off against him. Hermione and Ron watched nervously. Neville still looked like he was about to fall to the ground and pass out. For a brief moment, it seemed as if Moody was going to raise his wand and cast one of the Unforgivable Curses against us. But he never did.

Instead, he said, "You've got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, but you've got to know." I scowled. We had to know about them. We didn't need to see them. Not this early, at least. Not like that. "No point pretending... well... come on, Longbottom, I've got some books that might interest you."

Was he really going to take Neville in private? To do what? Try and apologize for what he had done in class? I couldn't believe that he would feel bad for it and I really didn't see Moody as the type of teacher to comfort students when he knew that he had upset them. I felt terrible for Neville, but I didn't know what to say or do. Neville looked pleadingly at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I, but we didn't say anything, so Neville had no choice but to allow himself to be steered away, one of Moody's gnarled hands on his shoulder.

Just as they were about to walk up the stairs, back to Moody's classroom, I reached out and grabbed Neville's arm, stopping them. "Hey, Neville. Let me know if you need to talk, alright?" I offered.

"Yes," Neville said hoarsely, nodding at me. "Thank you, Tara."

Moody stared at me for a few seconds too long before nodding for Neville to come with him. I finally released his arm. "What was that about?" Ron asked, watching Neville and Moody turn the corner.

"I don't know," Hermione said, looking pensive.

"Some lesson, though, eh?" Ron said to Harry and me as we set off for the Great Hall. I remained silent. "Fred and George were right, weren't they? He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn't he? When he did Avada Kedavra, the way that spider just died, just snuffed it right -"

"It's disgusting, Ron," I interrupted, knowing that Harry wouldn't say anything. In fact, his face was as white as ash. He was likely just trying to put on a strong face. Ron looked shocked at my sharp words. Normally, I would have been laughing along with him. "I'm surprised that Dumbledore would dare let Moody teach that. Especially to Fourth Years. Maybe to Sixth or Seventh Years with the explicit consent of parents."

Ron scowled at me, looking almost offended that I didn't agree with him. "Since when did you turn into Hermione?" he asked me.

Hermione looked like she'd barely heard him. "Since Moody just showed us curses meant to permanently imprison someone in Azkaban like they were nothing," I snapped.

Ron looked like he was going to speak again so I threw my head back over my shoulder to motion to Harry and Hermione. Ron's mouth was still hanging open but he fell suddenly silent at the look on Harry's face. At that point, I figured that he wasn't going to speak again until we reached the Great Hall. The only comment he made was to Harry and me when we were halfway down the stairs that led to the Great Hall. Ron only said he supposed we had better make a start on Professor Trelawney's predictions tonight since they would take hours.

"What were you doing in there?"

All four of us turned back to see that the owner of the voice was none other than Draco Malfoy. And it appeared that he was talking to me. I crossed my arms over my chest, scowling at him. "Learning," I said plainly. Now it was Malfoy's turn to scowl. My friends had all stopped to watch so I turned back to them, knowing that Malfoy wouldn't speak again until they were gone. "Go on. I'll see you guys at dinner."

"Tara -"

"I'll see you later," I interrupted Harry. He very slowly nodded at me, shooting Malfoy a nasty look, as he walked off, Ron and Hermione in tow. I turned back to Malfoy. "What? What do you want?"

"The way that you were speaking to Moody," Malfoy clarified. I shrugged my shoulders. "Are you nuts?"

What was it to him, the way I had been speaking to Moody? "Someone had to talk to him. Someone had to distract him from what he was doing to the students who couldn't handle it. You're not the sharpest tool in the shed but I know you can get this one," I told him, unable to resist getting a dig in there toward him. "There's something wrong with him."

"You're just now figuring that out?" Malfoy asked.

"Of course not, nitwit," I snapped at him. Malfoy still didn't look thrilled with my insults. But I wanted to know why he was suddenly so concerned with my comments to Moody. "I know who Mad-Eye Moody is. I've met him once before. But that's not what this is about. There's something seriously wrong with him. He doesn't seem like the mad ex-Auror. He seems dangerous."

I wasn't quite sure why I was explaining it to Malfoy, but he looked interested and I wanted someone to hear my point of view. "Wasn't he always dangerous?" Malfoy asked.

"Sure," I said, shrugging. "But he didn't seem like... that. Prepared to kill a student."

Malfoy stared at me sidelong. "You're one to talk."

Was he trying to tell me that I had wanted to kill him? That seemed to be a little bit of a stretch... "I might not like you but that doesn't mean that I want to kill you," I said awkwardly. We both stared at each other for a long time before I spoke again. "Malfoy... Come on... I know that you've got to see it. He doesn't seem right."

Malfoy hummed thoughtfully. "You mentioned that you had met him before?"

"Once years ago. I didn't talk to him. I only saw him across the room," I explained. "But I saw him enough to know that this isn't his personality. He's a little eccentric but he's not diabolical."

Malfoy nodded slowly. It seemed like he was about to walk away when he spoke again. "Why did you ask about the Cruciatus Curse?"

"One of your lovely family friends back at the World Cup hit me with one," I growled, somehow blaming him.

Malfoy's face paled slightly. He swallowed thickly before straightening up. "They're not my family friends," he snapped. He might have straightened up slightly but I realized that he was still missing most of the color in his face. Not only that, but his voice was very shaky. "Someone - Someone hit you with a Cruciatus Curse?"

"I'm about ninety-nine percent positive," I said.

For some reason, Malfoy now looked almost offended. "I don't particularly like you, Nox." I scoffed. That was the understatement of the year. "But I would never want someone to use the Cruciatus Curse on you."

"Wow," I said slowly, staring Malfoy in the eyes. "That sounded almost caring."

Malfoy scoffed. "Don't get that carried away."

"Why were you upset about the way that I was talking to Moody?" I snapped.

Much to both of our surprise, Malfoy looked at a loss for words. But he recovered quickly. "The last thing I need is for you to end up getting yourself killed. Who would I be able to tease and threaten if not you?" Malfoy asked.

It was just enough to almost make us sound like friends. Almost. If only we didn't hate each other. "For just a second that was almost nice," I told Malfoy, staring at him sideways. Surprisingly enough, we both managed to smile at each other. Lately, it seemed that we could have actually been on the path to becoming friends. But we weren't there yet. For that reason, I started shifting around awkwardly after a brief stare-down. "We should get going. We're going to be late for dinner."

Malfoy looked like he had to shake his head clear. "Yeah. Definitely," he agreed.

The two of us turned immediately and walked into the dining hall without speaking to each other any more. Probably for the best, given the strange state of our relationship. We didn't look at each other when we went to our separate dining tables. Some people looked at us in confusion - as we so rarely were seen together and not fighting - but no one commented on it. I tried very hard not to spare him another glance as I took my spot in between Harry and Hermione. They and Ron looked just as curious as the rest of the Great Hall.

Over at the Hufflepuff table, I could see Cedric's friends chatting lowly with him, keeping their heads down as they spoke, but still rather conspicuously motioning to me. Thankfully, Cedric appeared to be shrugging them off. I rolled my eyes. This would just turn into another situation of rumors running rampant in Hogwarts. Neither Hermione nor I joined in with Harry and Ron's conversation during dinner, but while I ignored my food, Hermione ate hers furiously fast and then left for the library again. I continued pushing the beans on my plate around.

My mind was somewhere in between being bothered at the muttering going on in the Great Hall about myself and Malfoy and my constant replaying of Moody's lesson with the Unforgivable Curses. The students whispering and their gazes shooting back and forth between the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables. That flash of green light and the sight of the spider's trembling. The constant avoidance of meeting Malfoy's eyes. The sound of the screams of the students in the classroom. The sudden awareness that Neville was not at dinner.

Finally, I couldn't just sit there anymore. I jumped up from the table, startling the people near me. "I'll be back," I said to Ron and Harry.

"Going to find Diggory?" Ron asked through a mouthful of food.

"Actually this time I'm going to the library," I said. They both looked rather surprised. "See you guys a little bit later."

"Bye," Harry said.

All eyes were on me as I walked out of the Great Hall. I remained walking briskly with my eyes locked face-forward. They weren't getting a reaction from me and if Cedric wanted to know anything, I would tell him when no one else was around. I walked upstairs and headed into the library, where thankfully not that many people were around. Most people were downstairs in the Great Hall for dinner. Hermione would likely be hidden in one of the rows of shelves. But I didn't want to be around her right now. She would just tell me that I was overreacting.

Honestly, I should have waited and asked Ron and Harry about Moody and his lesson. I wanted to know how they felt. Harry had gone as white as a ghost during the lesson. Ron had looked excited. I supposed that it didn't matter. I didn't care right now. I was just planning on talking to them about it later. Right now all I needed was to do something else... and I needed to do it quickly. I didn't want anyone to see what I was doing and I knew that the library wouldn't be crowded as it would be closing soon.

I walked into the library and took a seat at one of the tables near the back. I reached into my satchel and pulled out a piece of parchment, staring at it for a moment. Remus had told me to write to him if there was ever anything I needed. I had a feeling that he might have once known Moody. If anyone would know anything about his personality and if I might have been overreacting - or have something to be concerned about - it would be Remus. I knew that I would get a response faster from him than I would from Sirius. And my parents would get far too worried if I told them.

Remus,

Hoping my letter finds you well. How have you been since leaving Hogwarts? We've missed you back home. I understand why you had to stay away. With Sirius on the loose, it doesn't look good for any of you to be hanging around together. Either way, I'd love to see you again sometime. We would all love to see you. Promise that you'll come to visit soon?

Perhaps I should get to the point. You told me once that I could write to you if I ever needed anything. It's not so much that I need something more than I have a question about something. Someone, more appropriately.

From what Mom and Dad have told me, you once knew an Auror by the name of Alastor Moody. Mad-Eye Moody. Much to everyone's surprise, Moody is now our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Having him makes me yearn for the days of Gilderoy Lockhart. At least his lessons were harmless. Most of the time, anyway. Everyone seems to love him because he does definitely know what he's talking about. But I think there's something wrong with him. Not just what people talk about. This is something much darker.

Long story short, today Moody showed us the three Unforgivable Curses in class. Not just explained them. You're not even supposed to do that until Sixth Year. He actually showed them to us. Killing Curse and all. It was on a spider, granted, but it was still taking a life. I don't know, it just seemed so wrong. Shouldn't it be at least somewhat difficult to kill a living being? Moody did it like it was nothing.

Remus, I think something's wrong with him. I don't know what it is, but there's got to be something. Everyone thinks that it's no big deal, that he's just eccentric, but this seems diabolical. Maybe I'm overreacting. Can you give me some two-cents here?

Am I right or just being panicked for no reason?

Hope things are well with you. Found any new work over the past few months? We all miss you. Come by soon.

Hope to hear from you soon,  
Tara

As I placed my quill down, reading over my letter, a shadow fell on my other side. I was unable to shield the letter before he saw it. "Are you writing a letter to Professor Lupin?" Cedric asked.

I blushed a deep scarlet as I rolled the letter up and placed it back down on the table. "Well... yeah," I muttered dumbly, scooting over as Cedric seated himself on the bench with me. "He was one of my parents' best friends and he was around sometimes over the summer. We got close. He's kind of become like a third parent. Just wanted to check up on him and see how he's doing."

"That's a long letter to check up on someone," Cedric said, grinning down at me.

"Mind your damn business," I snapped playfully. Cedric laid a hand over his chest, feigning being upset with me as I laughed, shoving into him gently. I looked over at him once I had calmed down. "Now, on the risk of completely negating everything I just said, I need you to do something for me."

Cedric narrowed his eyebrows. "Why do I get the feeling that you're not just planning on asking me for a harmless date?"

"Because you know me well," I answered. We both laughed again. "Look… I want to make this really simple. Madam Pince likes you."

"True."

"Madam Pince hates me."

"Also true."

"I need to get a book but I'm pretty sure it's going to be in the Restricted Section. Actually, I'm positive that it'll be in the Restricted Section. I need you to ask her for it," I explained, hoping he wouldn't ask me about it.

Thankfully, Cedric seemed to be thinking about the practicality of it. "Tara, I would still need a note from a professor."

"Not if you butter her up slightly," I said slowly, nudging his shoulder gently. He still didn't look completely convinced. "Come on, I've seen her actually speak to you like you're a human being. She doesn't talk to anyone else that way."

Cedric let out a deep breath, running his hand over his forehead. "Alright," he conceded. I smiled at him. "What book do you need?"

"One that talks about the Unforgivable Curses."

Cedric's brows shot up almost all the way to his forehead. "I haven’t made you that mad recently, have I?"

Although he looked reasonably serious, I laughed quietly and shook my head. "No. But I want to read up on them," I said. Cedric nodded for me to continue explaining. "Moody was teaching us them in class today and actually demonstrating them. Last I heard, those curses are supposed to take a toll on the person casting them. But he did it like it was nothing. Like it was a Bat-Boogey Hex."

It just seemed so strange to me. How did no one else think it was odd? Cedric shook his head as if trying to piece the mystery together. "Tara, he was one of the best Aurors of all time. It might not be a nice thought, but he's probably used those curses before," Cedric said quietly.

"I know it was on a spider, but he cast the Killing Curse like it was nothing to him," I argued.

That comment caught Cedric's attention. "He showed you the Killing Curse in a classroom with Harry in it?" he asked quietly.

Finally, someone finally seemed to be coming to the same conclusion that I was. Moody's lesson wasn't informational. It was cruel. "Yeah. No one seems to understand that part! He killed the spider right in front of him. Talk about not having tact," I muttered angrily.

Cedric let out a few deep breaths before finally nodding slowly. "Okay. I'll do it."

"Thanks," I breathed gratefully.

He was my only chance at getting a good look into the Unforgivable Curses. I needed a book that would explain a lot more than anything Moody or the rest of the professors would tell me. And it would get me the information a lot faster than Remus would be able to get it back to me. The two of us smiled at each other as I squeezed his hand and turned back, ducking behind a column of books not far from the front of the library. I watched closely as Cedric approached Madam Pince's desk. He turned back to me just long enough for me to give him an encouraging nod.

Cedric smiled politely as he stood in front of her desk. "Good evening, Madam Pince."

She barely looked up over her horn-rimmed glasses. "Mr. Diggory," she greeted.

"Did you have a nice summer?" Cedric asked.

"It was pleasant enough," Madam Pince said.

"That's good to hear," Cedric replied, smiling awkwardly. He hesitated for a moment before jumping into it. "I wondered if I might ask you a favor." Madam Pince finally glanced up. "We were talking about the Unforgivable Curses in Defense Against the Dark Arts the other day and we now have an essay due on them. The Standard Book of Spells talks a little bit about them but I was hoping to go more in-depth with my answers. Getting so close to the end of my days here at Hogwarts, every grade will matter. Can you perhaps point me in the right direction?"

My eyebrows quirked slightly. He was getting to be a good liar. My influence, I was sure. "Anything you may want to take a look at would be in the Restricted Section. You'll have to get a note from Professor Moody," Madam Pince told him.

I groaned. That was exactly what I was trying to avoid. "Well, I was hoping that there might have been a chance that I could bypass that bit," Cedric said awkwardly. Madam Pince fixated an even stare on him. "You know Professor Moody. He's not exactly the friendly or understanding type."

"I'm sure that Professor Moody will understand if it's for additional reading material," Madam Pince said.

As Madam Pince looked back down at her desk, Cedric turned back to me. I nodded for him to try again. "Madam Pince..." Cedric said slowly. She glanced back at him. "I have never returned a book late or damaged any of your property. You know that I'll keep my word when I tell you that I will only have the book out for the night. I'll bring it back to you first thing in the morning."

Madam Pince still wasn't budging. "No means no, Mr. Diggory. Tell Miss Nox if she would like the book she can get the note herself," she said, never once looking away from him.

Old bat paid more attention than I thought... "Shit," I muttered, ducking behind the column.

"Yes, ma'am," Cedric's voice called awkwardly.

"Well that was a bust," I groaned as Cedric came back to stand with me.

"Just get the note, Tara," he said.

But that would tip Moody off that I was getting suspicious. I had a different plan. One that wouldn't require anyone knowing what I was doing. "I've got a better idea," I said suddenly.

Cedric shook his head. "Don't tell me. I like not being involved in your harebrained schemes," he said quickly. I smiled at him. That was probably for the best. "Best of luck with whatever you're planning on doing, though."

"We'll see how well it works out," I said. Cedric smiled at me as we linked hands and headed up to the front of the library, stopping at the wooden doors. "Okay, I'm going to go back to the Common Room. Maybe see how Neville's doing."

"What's wrong with Neville?" Cedric asked curiously.

"I don't know. We went to Defense Against the Dark Arts and he seemed okay right up until Moody started showing us the curses," I said. Something about my statement seemed to pique Cedric's interest. "All of a sudden he looked like he was going to be sick. He hasn't seemed right since. I just wanted to see if he was feeling any better by now."

"Did Moody happen to be demonstrating the Cruciatus Curse?" Cedric asked.

"Yeah. Why?"

Cedric lowered his voice so much that it was almost hard to hear him. "That curse has a lot of history with Neville's family."

"What do you mean?" I asked, just as quietly.

"Don't repeat this, Tara. Dad told me and made me swear not to repeat it. I doubt Neville would like anyone knowing," Cedric said darkly.

"I'm not going to say anything," I said impatiently. "Tell me."

Cedric let out a deep breath and pulled me with him behind a stone wall. "At the end of the Wizarding War, Alice and Frank Longbottom were attacked by Death Eaters. Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan Lestrange," Cedric explained quietly. My eyes bulged. They were always considered to be some of the most dangerous Death Eaters. "That's what Dad said, anyway. They were captured and tortured with the Cruciatus Curse. They've never recovered from their ordeals. They were both deemed insane and lost their capability to function in society."

My head spun for a long time with that revelation. Neville was a great deal stronger than I had ever pegged him for. "I always thought that they had been killed in the war," I said quietly.

"They're alive but trapped in their minds," Cedric replied.

"That's horrible..." I gasped, leaning up against the wall for support. As much as I wanted to say something to Neville, I knew that I couldn't. This was likely something he didn't want to talk about. So, I focused on the previous problem. "Okay, is my claim substantiated now? Moody had to have known about the Longbottom's and he was probably their friend. He then proceeds to perform the curse that permanently disabled his friends in front of their son?"

"Tara, promise me you won't say anything," Cedric said.

"I won't. To Neville," I said. As much as I wanted to talk to Harry, Ron, and Hermione about this, I knew that I couldn't. This had to stay in my own head. For Neville's sake. "But I should go see how he's doing."

"Okay," Cedric said slowly. "See you tomorrow?"

"Seems likely since we go to the same school," I teased.

Cedric laughed, giving me a gentle shove. "Shut up. See you later."

"Night, Cedric." I was about to walk off when something dawned on me. He had never mentioned what seemed to be the talk of the school this afternoon. "Hey!" I yelped. Cedric stopped short and turned back to me. "No questions about earlier?"

"You mean whether or not I was interested in the conversations circling the school about yourself and Draco Malfoy?" Cedric asked, grinning slightly.

"Yeah..." I muttered.

"Do you have feelings for him?" Cedric asked.

"No!" I gasped.

Cedric smiled, probably knowing that I was disgusted at the very thought. "Then I have nothing to say about it," Cedric said, shrugging carelessly. I always was surprised at the way he could blow off gossip. "I trust you, Tara. No matter what anyone else has to say. The point of a relationship is that it's between two people. Not an entire group."

"You're one of the good ones," I told Cedric, smiling at him. He gave me a slight smile back. "You know that, right?"

"Of course. It's just miraculous that you managed to catch me," Cedric said haughtily.

He was definitely starting to take after me, which I wasn't sure whether or not was a good thing. At least it didn't make me feel like such an ass when I said things like that since he was now throwing it back in my face. We both laughed as I reached for the hood of his robes and pulled him into me. He ran a hand through my hair and pressed a quick kiss against my mouth before releasing me. We walked toward the staircase hand-in-hand until we reached the staircase for Gryffindor Tower. He gave me another quick kiss and said goodnight.

Once we had separated, I headed up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower. The halls were mostly empty but I was a little surprised to see that Harry and Ron appeared to be walking back from dinner. It was a little strange since we had been sitting in the Great Hall for almost half an hour before I had gone off to the library and I had been there for twenty minutes. Had something interesting been happening since? I sped up slightly and dashed up the flight of stairs to fall into step with the boys.

"Hey, guys. Long dinner," I commented, walking up to them.

"They had shepherd's pie!" Ron said excitedly.

"Right. Whatever," I said carelessly.

"Anything interesting in the library?" Harry asked.

"Not really," I said, for some reason unwilling to tell them about my thoughts of Moody. They would probably think that I was being paranoid like everyone else did. "Madam Pince still hates me."

"What else is new?" Ron asked.

I glanced over at Harry, who appeared to have gained some color back but still looked a little shaky. I assumed that he had been thinking of nothing but the Unforgivable Curses all through dinner. And he now raised the subject of the Unforgivable Curses himself. "Wouldn't Moody and Dumbledore be in trouble with the Ministry if they knew we'd seen the curses?" Harry asked as we approached the Fat Lady.

"Yeah, probably," Ron said.

"Definitely," I agreed.

"But Dumbledore's always done things his way, hasn't he, and Moody's been getting in trouble for years, I reckon. Attacks first and asks questions later - look at his dustbins," Ron pointed out. Look at the dead spider... "Balderdash."

The Fat Lady swung forward to reveal the entrance hole, and we climbed into the Gryffindor Common Room, which was crowded and noisy. The twins appeared to be setting off fireworks in the corner. But they weren't laughing quite like they normally were. In fact, they didn't even seem to be that interested in messing with me about the Malfoy situation from earlier. Any other day that would have been the first thing they would have done to me. I tried to catch their eyes, but Harry's voice broke me from my near-trance.

"Shall we get our Divination stuff, then?" Harry asked.

"I suppose," Ron groaned.

"Damn it, I almost forgot about that," I growled, shooting Ron an irritated look.

This was his fault. If he hadn't messed with Lavender in class we would have never had this much homework. For the worst class, too... We went up to our respective dormitories to fetch our books and charts. Although I couldn't find my own moon chart. I had lent it to Dean. I groaned and darted over to the boy's dormitory. They weren't alone in there. Neville must have been there alone, sitting on his bed, reading. He looked a good deal calmer than at the end of Moody's lesson, though still not entirely normal. His eyes were rather red. The boys were staring at him dumbly.

"You all right, Neville?" Harry asked him, barely giving me a second glance.

"Oh yes, I'm fine, thanks," Neville said, his voice still far too high. "Just reading this book Professor Moody lent me..."

He held up the book: Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean. "That was... nice of him..." I said awkwardly.

"Apparently, Professor Sprout told Professor Moody I'm really good at Herbology," Neville said. There was a faint note of pride in his voice that I had rarely heard there before. "He thought I'd like this."

Telling Neville what Professor Sprout had said was a very tactful way of cheering Neville up, for Neville very rarely heard that he was good at anything. It was the sort of thing Professor Lupin would have done. But that didn't mean that I forgave Moody for what he had done in class. He must have known about Neville's parents. He should have never done something like that in the first place. I didn't care how important he thought that it was. Neville deserved to have been given the choice whether or not he wanted to see the Cruciatus Curse.

For a brief moment, I stared at Neville with a new level of appreciation. I had never realized - or cared, honestly - about what he had been forced to go through at such a young age. And even now, I supposed. I knew that I should have said something to him or to my friends about it but I had also promised Cedric that I wouldn't. This was just something that I would have to keep to myself until someone else decided to say something. I wasn't sure that Neville would ever be able to.

But I couldn't leave the room without saying anything. I seated myself on the edge of Neville's bed and placed my hand on his knee. "Hey, Neville, let me know if find anything interesting in there. My mom would love to hear about any new herbs. She still likes to work as a Healer on the side," I told him.

Neville's face brightened slightly. "Absolutely, Tara. Thanks for the offer earlier, by the way."

"Of course. Know that it always stands," I said.

Even if he just wanted to talk to me about it, I would be there to listen. Harry, Ron, and I took our copies of Unfogging the Future back down to the Common Room, found a table near the fireplace, and set to work on our predictions for the coming month. An hour later, we had still made very little progress, though our table was littered with bits of parchment bearing sums and symbols, and my brain was as fogged as though it had been filled with the fumes from Professor Trelawney's fire. I was too caught up with Neville's story to focus much on my own work.

"What happened to Diggory helping you with this?" Ron asked, glancing over at my blank parchment.

"I got distracted by something else," I answered vaguely.

"Tara!" Harry gasped.

"Not that!" I snapped, whacking him with a rolled up piece of parchment.

Harry scowled at me, brushing his hair back into place, going back to his own assignment. "I haven't got a clue what this lot's supposed to mean," Harry said, staring down at a long list of calculations.

"You know," Ron said, whose hair was on end because of all the times he had run his fingers through it in frustration, "I think it's back to the old Divination standby."

"What - make it up?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Ron said, sweeping the jumble of scrawled notes off the table, dipping his pen into some ink, and starting to write.

It was usually what we ended up resorting to. "Sounds as good as anything," I said.

"Next Monday," Ron muttered as he scribbled across the parchment, "I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter." He looked up at Harry and me, as we were both staring at him. "You know her - just put in loads of misery, she'll lap it up."

"Right," Harry said, crumpling up his first attempt and lobbing it over the heads of a group of chattering first years into the fire. "Okay... on Monday, I will be in danger of- er - burns."

"Yeah, you will be, we're seeing the skrewts again on Monday," Ron said darkly. I snorted under my breath. "Okay, Tuesday, I'll... erm..."

"Lose a treasured possession," Harry said, who was flicking through Unfogging the Future for ideas.

"Good one," Ron said, copying it down. "Because of... erm... Mercury."

"Okay... next month I'm going to suffer a loss of pride," I said, trying my hand.

"Nice," Harry said.

"Because Mars is lapsing over Venus," I continued.

"Go with Saturn overlapping Venus. We've all already used Mars," Ron put in.

"Better," I said.

"Perfect," Harry said, grinning.

"Why don't you get stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a friend?" Ron offered to Harry.

"Yeah... cool..." Harry said, scribbling it down, "because... Venus is in the twelfth house."

"And on Wednesday, I think I'll come off worst in a fight," Ron said.

"Ah, I was going to have a fight. Okay, I'll lose a bet," Harry conceded.

"Yeah, you'll be betting I'll win my fight..." Ron said.

"And I'll come out ahead of both of you since I told you not to fight or bet," I put in.

"But you'll lose it all in a trip down the stairs," Ron suggested.

"Naturally," I chuckled.

We continued to make up predictions (which grew steadily more tragic) for another hour, while the Common Room around us slowly emptied as people went up to bed. It left mostly the older students who were either working on their homework or excitedly chatting away. Crookshanks wandered over to us later, leaped lightly into an empty chair, and stared inscrutably at Harry, rather as Hermione might look if she knew we weren't doing our homework properly. I tried to shoo the cat off but he merely hissed and snapped at my shoes.

Staring around the room, trying to think of a kind of misfortune I hadn't yet used, I saw that Fred and George had moved out of the middle of the Common Room. They were now sitting together against the opposite wall, heads together, quills out, poring over a single piece of parchment. It was most unusual to see Fred and George hidden away in a corner and working silently; they usually liked to be in the thick of things and the noisy center of attention, just as they had been earlier in the evening. What in Merlin's name were they doing now?

There was something secretive about the way they were working on the piece of parchment, and I was immediately reminded of how they had sat together writing something back at the Burrow. I had thought then that it was another order form for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, but it didn't look like that this time; if it had been, they would surely have let Lee Jordan in on the joke. I wondered whether it had anything to do with entering the Triwizard Tournament. It couldn't have been. This looked a little more... intense... They actually looked angry.

As I watched, George shook his head at Fred, scratched out something with his quill, and said, in a very quiet voice that nevertheless carried across the almost deserted room, "No - that sounds like we're accusing him. Got to be careful..."

Accusing him? Accusing who? What the hell were the two of them talking about? There was an itch in the back of my head practically begging me to go and ask them about it. Then George looked over and saw me - and apparently Harry - watching him. Harry grinned and quickly returned to his predictions - I assumed that he didn't want George to think he was eavesdropping. But I kept staring at the twins. They winked at me and went back to work. Shortly after that, the twins rolled up their parchment, said good night, and went off to bed.

"Be right back," I told Harry and Ron. They stared at me as I jumped over the back of the couch and darted to stairs, just barely managing to head the twins off. "Boys."

"Tara," Fred and George greeted.

"Something wrong?" I asked curiously.

"You don't know how to mind your own business," Fred said.

"That is true," I agreed. "Come on. Tell me. What's going on? I want to help."

Fred grinned, patting me on the top of the head. I shoved his hand off. "Don't worry your pretty little head, Tara."

"We can handle it," George added.

The two of them physically lifted me up before placing me down behind themselves. I growled at them as they headed up the stairs. That couldn't be it. I would get it out of them. I scowled at the floor as I walked back to my seat, determined to get the truth out of them. I wanted to know what was going on. Quite frankly, I was just being nosy. But that was just who I was.

"What was that about?" Ron asked as I came back to sit with them.

"I'm not sure. But I'm going to find out," I said determinedly.

At that point, I was done with my Divination work. I would just take a lower grade. I was much more interested in what was happening with the twins and why they were so hesitant to share it. Fred and George had been gone ten minutes or so - all of which I had spent plotting against them - when the portrait hole opened and Hermione climbed into the Common Room carrying a sheaf of parchment in one hand and a box whose contents rattled as she walked in the other. Crookshanks arched his back, purring. I arched a brow at her curiously.

"Hello, I've just finished!" Hermione said happily.

"So have I!" Ron said triumphantly, throwing down his quill.

But what was it that Hermione had finished? I assumed that it wasn't her homework. She had just said that she hadn't been given much homework. It wouldn't have taken her hours to get all of her work done. She was doing something else. And when Hermione got an idea, it usually meant that we would be hearing about it. And probably forced to join in with her... Hermione sat down, laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair, and pulled Ron's predictions toward her.

"Not going to have a very good month, are you?" she said sardonically as Crookshanks curled up in her lap.

"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," Ron yawned.

"You seem to be drowning twice," Hermione said.

"Oh am I?" Ron asked, peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging Hippogriff."

I let out a bark of laughter that Ron grinned at. "Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?" Hermione asked.

"How dare you! We've been working like house-elves here!" Ron gasped, in mock outrage.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Ron..." I whispered.

"It's just an expression," Ron said hastily.

The two of them naturally launched themselves into a nasty argument over house-elf rights. I was honestly sick of listening to it. House-elves wanted to be slaves. That was the way that it worked. Hermione just didn't understand it. I threw my half-filled chart back into my bag with the rest of my supplies and glanced over to Harry, who was now the only person left still working. After a few moments, Harry laid down his quill too, having just finished predicting his own death by decapitation.

"Decapitation?" I questioned, leaning down over him.

"You wrote falling off the Astronomy Tower," Harry said as if that gave him a good excuse to predict his own death by somehow getting decapitated.

"But that could be accurate with all of the time I spend there," I pointed out.

"Decapitation could also be accurate," Harry said.

I supposed that anything could be accurate. "Accurate and disgusting," I said, chuckling.

"What's in the box?" Harry asked Hermione, pointing at it, stopping their argument in its tracks.

"Funny you should ask," Hermione said, with a nasty look at Ron.

Finally, we were about to see what she had been spending so much time over the past few days doing. As she reached over and grabbed the box I felt a funny lurch in my stomach that told me that I wasn't going to enjoy whatever it was that the contents held. Hermione pulled the box into her lap, took off the lid and showed us the contents. It wasn't exactly what I was expecting. In fact, I had no idea what it was supposed to be. Inside the box were about fifty badges, all of them different colors, but all bearing the same letters: S.P.E.W.

"Spew?" Harry asked, picking up a badge and looking at it. He glanced over at me but I shrugged, unsure of what it was supposed to mean. I'd never heard the acronym before. "What's this about?"

"Not spew," Hermione said impatiently. "It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

"This is what you've been doing in the library the past few days?" I asked her curiously.

"Never heard of it," Ron said.

"Well, of course, you haven't, I've only just started it," Hermione said brusquely.

"Yeah?" Ron asked in mild surprise. "How many members have you got?"

"Well - if you three join - four," Hermione said.

Absolutely not. I had put up with a lot from those three. This was not going to be one of those things. "Mione, I would rather try to shove my entire foot in my mouth than walk around with that badge pinned to my chest," I told her honestly.

"Come on, Tara!" Hermione cried.

"No," I said flatly. "I'll help you out, but I am not wearing that badge."

"Agreed. And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying 'spew,' do you?" Ron asked.

"S-P-E-W!" Hermione spat hotly. "I was going to put Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status - but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto."

"Our?" I snapped.

There was no way that I was doing this one. I had a relatively big social circle in Hogwarts. Since I spent most of the year at Hogwarts, I enjoyed having so many friends that I could talk to - in each of the years. I knew that if I walked around with a badge spelling out 'spew' pinned to my chest that I would lose at least most of my upperclassmen friends. And I would never hear the end of it from Cedric or his friends. Hermione acted as though she hadn't heard us as she brandished the sheaf of parchment at us.

"I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now," Hermione said, looking down at her parchment.

"Hermione - open your ears. They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!" Ron said loudly.

"Our short-term aims," Hermione continued, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word just as before, "are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about non-wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures because they're shockingly underrepresented."

"Can I repeat, our?" I asked loudly again.

"Yes, our, Tara," Hermione said.

"I've got bigger problems. Your weird house-elf obsession is not one of them, I muttered.

"And how do we do all this?" Harry asked.

"Don't encourage her!" I yelled at him.

"We start by recruiting members. I thought two Sickles to join - that buys a badge - and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign," Hermione said happily.

"You really think that people will donate two sickles for this?" I asked her. She glanced up, looking almost offended with me. "Hermione, people would much rather go to Zonko's or Honeydukes and spend two sickles that way."

"Exactly," Hermione said. "You know people."

"Yes, I do," I said.

"You're treasurer, Ron - I've got you a collecting tin upstairs - and Harry, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything I'm saying now, as a record of our first meeting," Hermione explained.

"So, what will I be doing? She feared to ask..." I mumbled under my breath.

"Wonderful you should ask!" Hermione chirped. I stared at her blankly. How did she not see the sarcasm there? I was not planning on doing a single thing with this spew nonsense. "You have a lot of friends in the upper years. Your boyfriend is one of the most popular boys at Hogwarts. You can deal with public relations! Promoting S.P.E.W."

"If I do that, I won't have a boyfriend anymore," I told her.

"He might like it," Hermione said.

"I'm not bringing this up with Cedric. Or any of his friends," I said determinedly.

"Tara!" Hermione whined.

"You've actually lost your mind this time, haven't you?" I asked.

But she was ignoring me. There was a pause in which Hermione beamed at the three of us, and I sat, torn between exasperation at Hermione and amusement at the dumb looks on Ron's and Harry's faces. I imagined that none of us really knew how to broach this with Hermione. The silence was broken, not by Ron, who in any case looked as though he was temporarily dumbstruck, but by a soft tap, tap on the window. I looked across the now empty common room and saw, illuminated by the moonlight, a snowy owl perched on the windowsill.

"Hedwig!" Harry shouted, and he launched himself out of his chair and across the room to pull open the window.

Finally! We would be able to deal with Hermione and the whole spew thing later. All I could think was how grateful I was that Hermione would now be distracted by whatever news Hedwig had from Sirius. Which reminded me that I would have to send Dai off later with my letter to Remus, which Cedric had ever-so-kindly interrupted. Hedwig flew inside, soared across the room, and landed on the table on top of Harry's predictions. At first, I didn't see a letter, which caused my heart to skip a few beats.

"About time!" Harry said, hurrying after her.

"Move!" I gasped, shoving Ron out of the way.

"She's got an answer!" Ron said excitedly, pointing at the grubby piece of parchment tied to Hedwig's leg.

Thankfully, she did have a letter. Now we just had to pray that Sirius was okay and that we hadn't accidentally drawn any attention to him. Harry hastily untied it and sat down to read, whereupon Hedwig fluttered onto his knee, hooting softly. I reached over and gave her a few gentle ruffles of the feathers. She looked like she was expecting some kind of treats for doing so well with a trip that must have been extremely far - especially considering how long it had taken her to get back to us.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

She and Ron were squished into a chair across from us. I was leaning over Harry's shoulder, perched just behind him in the chair. From what I could see over his shoulder, the letter was very short and looked as though it had been scrawled in a great hurry. My heart gave a slight flutter. Had we sent Sirius into a panic? Harry read it aloud:

"Harry & Tara -

"I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar and Tara's hand are the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached me here. If either one of them hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore - they're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is.

"I'll be in touch soon. My best to Ron and Hermione. Tell Cedric to keep his hands at bay. Keep your eyes open, both of you.

"Sirius."

The usual comment about Cedric keeping his hands to himself - which Sirius had put in all of his letters to me - didn't bring a smile to my face. It barely registered. What really dawned on me was the first sentence. Sirius was coming north. Which meant that he was coming right back into the place where he was most wanted. This was where most of the searches for him were happening. We couldn't let him come back here! He would be risking his life. Harry glanced at me briefly before looking up at Ron and Hermione, who stared back at us.

"He's flying north?" Hermione whispered. "He's coming back?"

"Dumbledore's reading what signs?" Ron asked, looking perplexed. "Harry, Tara - what's up?"

For Harry had just hit himself in the forehead with his fist, jolting Hedwig out of his lap. Ron and Hermione looked concerned about him, but I knew exactly what was bothering him. "He can't come north!" I yelled at Harry.

"We shouldn't have told him!" Harry said furiously.

"What are you two on about?" Ron asked in surprise.

"It's made him think he's got to come back!" Harry yelled, now slamming his fist on the table so that Hedwig landed on the back of Ron's chair, hooting indignantly. "Coming back, because he thinks we're in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with us!"

"We made it sound like we were in trouble!" I yelled, knowing that this was also half my fault.

"And I haven't got anything for you," Harry snapped at Hedwig, who was clicking her beak expectantly, "you'll have to go up to the Owlery if you want food."

The last thing that Harry needed to do was start taking his anger out on Hedwig. We would need her to make another quick trip to Sirius before he could get underway to get out here. We needed to stop him before he left wherever he was - apparently safe and sound right now. We couldn't use Dai, as I needed him to go find Remus and get my answer on Moody. Hedwig gave Harry an extremely offended look and took off for the open window, cuffing him around the head with her outstretched wing as she went.

"Well, that was rude," I told Harry, watching as Hedwig soared back out the window. "We need to tell him not to come here. Reassure him that everything's fine. He's been good in hiding. He'd be risking his safety coming back here."

"Harry, Tara," Hermione began, in a pacifying sort of voice.

"I'm going to bed," Harry said shortly. "See you in the morning."

He stood and marched off without another word. Ron and Hermione looked over at me but I wasn't really in the mood to talk either. This day had been a little too eventful for me. "I'm going to go too. Goodnight, guys," I told them quietly.

"Night, Tara," Ron said.

"Be up there soon," Hermione added gently.

Upstairs in the dormitory, I pulled on my pajamas and got into my four-poster, but I didn't feel remotely tired. My mind was racing. If Sirius came back and got caught, it would be our fault. Mine and Harry's. Sirius was trying to keep us safe, no matter what the cost might have been to ourselves. He only cared about us. Why hadn't the two of us just kept our mouths shut? A few seconds' pain and we'd had to blab... If we'd just had the sense to keep it to ourselves. Or if we had been smart enough to tell Dumbledore or my parents. People who weren't hiding from the law.

That coupled with Moody's lesson and the newfound discovery of Neville's hardships... Today had not been a good day for most of us. I heard Hermione come up into the dormitory a short while later, but did not speak to her. For a long time, I lay staring up at the dark canopy of my bed. The dormitory was completely silent. Not even Lavender or Parvati were giggling. It was hours that I sat and stared at the ceiling, wondering where to go next. As the sun rose, dawning the next day, I couldn't help but wonder if I wasn't the only person lying awake.


End file.
